


Minecraft, but I was raised by wolves

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Feral Behavior, Feral Children, Feral Dream, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Im a sucker for hurt/comfort dont come for me, It's Not All Bad Though, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, There's plenty of fluff, we got some beta readers now :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:40:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 44,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28689558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A pup was here. The wolf could smell it, and it was near the bodies of the dead-two leggeds.  She swivelled her ears around, before training them on a bush near the heads of the bodies, listening closely as she heard a light shuffling and a few small sniffles.She stepped towards it, nosing away some of the branches, and laid her eyes upon it. It was a two legged pup, presumably the pup of the dead ones nearby.---aka: Dream is raised by wolves.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 404
Kudos: 1265
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. Hi there. 
> 
> If you haven't already guessed, this is kinda inspired by a different MCYT fic (Responsible Forever by SilverWing15, it's amazing and I highly suggest you check it out) as well as GeorgeNotFound's hit video: "Minecraft, But My Friend Is A Dog..."
> 
> I honestly am not sure where I'm going with this, but I hope you stick around!

The wolf sniffed the air, heavy smoke tainting the wind, as she watched the human dens burn in front of her. It was almost beautiful, in the way that a dead rabbit’s blood on the ground or a thunderstorm full of dangerous creatures can be. Her ear flicked as she briefly registered that the rest of her pack was following up behind her. 

She had ran off suddenly, the smell of something on her nose, so it was only natural her pack would follow in the hope that it was something to eat. The cold-white season was coming upon them, and prey would be scarce soon. She now stood at the edge of the forest, not daring to step out of the tree line out of fear that she or her pack would be seen by the humans or caught in the blaze. A few screams from tall-two legged beasts in the dens echoed throughout the field and bounced off the trees in the woods, making the wolf flatten her ears and take a few steps back. 

If it didn’t rain soon, the fire would surely spread to the trees, and the pack needed to be long gone by the time that happened. It wasn’t food that the wolf had caught the smell of, though. She had thought it was at first, but she now could clearly sense that it was something else. 

Two beings lay dead on the forest floor in front of her, clearly having tried to escape the blaze in the village nearby. The closer the wolf got to the two bodies, the stronger the smell of blood was. It wafted off of the bodies, mingling with the stench of death, but the wolf could smell even more from the village. It was almost unnoticeable under the strong, stinging scent of the fire and smoke, but once she noticed it was there it was impossible to ignore. 

Thin-wood-feathers stuck out from the backs and necks of the tall-two legs in front of the wolf, making them look almost like the spikey-mice that she sometimes saw in the forest, and she knew from experience that they could kill. Her pup- the little ball of white fluff which she had birthed and cared for and cherished- had been run through with one of the thin-wood-feathers from the arched-wood of a human only a few seasons previously. 

The pain of losing her pup was still fresh in her mind, as was his scent. She had smelt something like it, even from her position deep in the forest, and although it was different from what she could remember, the base smell of  _ small _ and  _ soft _ and  _ milk _ was the same.

A pup was here. The wolf could smell it, and it was near the bodies of the dead-two leggeds. She swivelled her ears around, before training them on a bush near the heads of the bodies, listening closely as she heard a light shuffling and a few small sniffles. She stepped towards it, nosing away some of the branches, and laid her eyes upon it. It was a two legged pup, presumably the pup of the dead ones nearby. A small, pitiful cry emitted from the pup as the wolf crouched and lowered her head and neck into the bush. 

It was small and pink, pale and hairless, and the familiar-unfamiliar smell of being young clung to its skin. It was so small, so different, and yet so much like her pup. The mother wolf gently reached over and caught its fake-pelt in her teeth- wrinkling her nose a little as the smell of blood and smoke on the fabric wafted into her nose- and dragged it out from under the bush and into the open. 

She stepped back into the clearing, looking up to see her pack had surrounded her now. They were sniffing the bodies of the dead-two leggeds and glancing warily at the fire and the two legged dens. Only some of the braver members of the pack were out, the others wary of the flames that licked at the sky. 

A few of them saw the small pup in her jaws and lifted their ears and tails.  _ Good, _ they barked.  _ Food!  _

The mother wolf let go of the pup gently, who continued to whine on the forest floor. Her lip curled, showing off the top row of her teeth.  _ No food _ , she snarled back.  _ Pup _ .  _ My pup.  _

One of the stronger members of the pack stepped forward, hackles raised.  _ Food,  _ he growled.  _ Cold, food scarce, eat now.  _ The mother wolf growled back, placing a protective paw over the pup. Tensions were rising fast, and the rest of the pack was either stepping away or siding with the warrior wolf. 

Moments before the mother wolf and the warrior wolf dove at each other's throats, a sharp bark brought them back to the present moment. The pack leader stood a few paces away from them, deeper in the woods. The remaining members of the pack- a few elder wolves, some pups and their mothers, and the few sick and wounded- stood behind her. 

_ What? _ She barked again, stepping closer.  _ What? Fight?  _

_ Pup! _ The mother wolf whined back, stepping away and showing off the two legged pup. She pulled her ears back in submission.  _ My pup. _

_ Food _ , the warrior snarled. He stepped back as well, ears down, but there was still confidence in his stance. 

The leader wolf stepped towards the little pup, who was still letting out pitiful cries. She sniffed his head- her breath ruffling the bit of natural pelt he had- and licked at the water that streaked down his face experimentally. Her tail wagged slightly when the pup opened his eyes and looked at her with a clear, green gaze. He whined a little, reaching out for the leader wolf with his fleshy, stubby paws, and the leader rested her nose in his palm. 

For a moment they sat still, the pup touching the leader’s nose, and the leader assessing the pup with a test only she knew the criteria for. Then, she stepped away and nodded to the mother wolf.  _ Your pup _ , she agreed. Her ears and tail were relaxed in a way that came off as neutral on the surface, but had a clear undertone of finality. The warrior wolf let out a disappointed chuff, ears pulled back for a few more seconds, before turning away. The mother wolf let out a gentle whine of gratitude to the leader before pulling her ears back up and turning her attention back to the pup. It was whining again, much quieter before though, and the mother wolf gave him a little lick on the nose. The whines stopped, and she licked him again. A little yelp-like whine bubbled from his mouth, and for a moment the mother wolf worried she had hurt the pup, before she realised that those were noises of joy. She huffed gently, licking him a third time, before looking back up at the leader. The pup was reaching up to her with its little paws, but she paid it no mind as the leader made her assessment of the situation. 

The fire was creeping closer, the smoke was thicker and a few of the older wolves were starting to retreat, the scent and the air becoming too thick for them. The leader lifted her tail and pricked her ears for a moment, bringing the attention of the pack to her, before turning away from the two legged dens and back into the forest.  _ Follow _ , she barked. She broke into a trot, leading the way through the dense shrubbery and trees. The pack followed- the elders and sick right after the leader, and the warriors bringing up the rear- and the mother wolf quickly leaned down and picked up her pup by the scruff of fake pelt again. She lifted him off the forest floor, and he made the odd yelping noise again, wiggling in her jaws. She shook him lightly and he stilled. She didn’t need him moving around and falling out of her mouth while the pack was travelling, as his soft flesh would surely tear on any sharp rocks or thorns. 

The mother wolf picked up a trot after the pack, quickly working her way into the middle of the formation, and she and her pup were quickly swallowed by the forest as they made their way away from the burning dens. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Can I just start off by saying: What?? Huh??? I expected like... 3 hits and 1 kudo, and then suddenly Im at 350 hits and nearly 75 kudos? Thank you guys so much and Im so glad you're liking this!
> 
> I'd also just like to say that I made a bit of a mistake in the previous chapter, specifically in the comments. Someone asked how old Dream was in chapter one and I said 1-3 years old. I ended up doing some research, and I've decided that he's a little older. So just to clarify, in chapter one Dream is about 4-5 years old.  
> I also go between calling Dream [the] pup and [the] young wolf in this chapter (and in future chapters) since he doesn't technically have a name yet. To avoid any more confusion, I'd like to just say that when he is referred to as a 'pup' he is 6-9 years old, and when he is referred to as a 'young wolf' he is 10-11 years old. By the end of this chapter, he is about 12-13. Hope that clears some stuff up! 
> 
> Anyway, this is a bit of a filler chapter (sorry!) but I have at least a rough outline for this fic now! Still no end : (  
> Things should start to pick up in the next chapter.  
> Enjoy!

Teaching the two-legged how to be a proper pup wasn’t as hard as the mother wolf had thought it would be. Maybe deep down, the two-leggeds were far more similar to wolves than she had previously thought. 

When he was hungry, he would eat. When he was thirsty he would drink, and when he was sleepy he would rest, just like the other wolf pups in the pack. He would play with them, too. He learned quickly how to play games with the pups, what wolves to avoid, and which ones to respect. 

He had some trouble figuring out how to keep up with the pack when he became strong enough to walk without being carried by the mother wolf. He had insisted on walking with his two legs for a while but had eventually realized that walking and running on all fours required less energy to keep up with the fast-moving pack. 

The first cold-white season had been the hardest, and the mother wolf had placed her pup amongst the others during the harshest nights, curling around him to keep him warm. His fake-pelt had come off quite quickly after she had taken him away from the two-legged dens- it had not been made to last the harsh conditions of the forest- but the mother wolf understood that it at least held a purpose. She tried her best to imitate it, covering her pup in clay and then placing furs from the pack’s prey on top of it. The clay hardened, sticking the pelts to his sensitive and delicate skin. They helped keep him warm, and they helped him blend in with the rest of the pack. 

He had learned, over time, to curl his paws in such a way that they roughly resembled the paws of his mother. He had learned to be carefully aware of his surroundings and pick up on the smallest sound, smell, or flicker of movement. The mother wolf taught him what things he could eat- prey that the pack brought back was ok, certain berries were ok, but don’t eat anything that you find laying on the ground as it may be diseased- and what to avoid- snakes, large open fields (unless you were hunting or traveling with the pack), and larger predators. 

Something the mother wolf noted was that her pup was curious, more so than the other pups. He would question everything, and as he learned how to communicate with the pack, questioning them on their answers became one of his favorite activities. He would constantly whine and ask for a reason when the pack told him something or gave him knowledge.

It was endearing, but the mother wolf worried a little that his curiosity would cause him to become an outcast within the pack. Wolves survived and lived together, and to maintain the pack trust was always put first. 

\-----

Seasons passed, and her pup slowly grew into a young wolf. His limbs grew longer, his face less round, and his strength increased. Raising him had been incredibly similar to raising the other pups, with the entire pack working together to support the mothers, feed, and entertain the pups. As he got older, however, the mother wolf knew things would be more difficult for him. 

Her pup was still loyal, but now he had more energy. He was over-eager and desperate to prove himself in the way that most pups were. The warrior wolves and the leader would teach the pups how to hunt and fight- mostly through experience- and the mother wolf couldn’t help but worry. He was different from the others, and although the differences didn’t matter as much when they were pups, the younger wolves got more responsibility. Her little wolf would need to run, fight, and hunt, which the mother wolf wasn’t sure he could handle. 

Her worries disappeared, however, when the leader wolf led them through an open field. The pack hunted, and a few of the older wolves brought the young wolves with them- one of them being her pup. She hovered nearby but felt pride in her heart when she saw her pup racing and keeping pace with his packmates. 

It took him a while to figure out how to hunt without the sharp teeth and tough claws that the other wolves had, but once he figured out his own way of taking down prey he quickly became a valuable asset in the pack. The new status of young wolf gave him much more freedom, and as the pack passed through a large plains biome, he would usually spend the day running far ahead of the pack to catch prey or to play with the others. 

By the time the pack had found themselves back in a forest, she could feel the ties her pup had with the pack (and the ties the pack had with her pup) had strengthened. 

  
  


\-----

The pack stayed away from two-legged dwellings whenever they could. That night in the woods when the mother wolf found her pup had been a fluke of sorts, a special one-time occasion that the pack leader was determined not to repeat. Because of this, the young wolf had never seen a two-legged or a two-legged den. His mother had told him about them in passing, simply adding them to the list of dangerous creatures to avoid, and he had left it at that. 

It had been many seasons since the young wolf had gone through the field. The pack had passed through smaller fields but mainly stuck the woods, preferring the cover and protection they offered. Prey tended to be more plentiful in and around forests, too. Passing through fields was necessary at some points, as the pack didn’t want to run any forests dry of resources. 

On one such trip through a small plain, however, the young wolf spotted something different. Something new. He straightened his head when he saw it over the horizon, whining lowly to let his mother know of its presence. It looked like a group of rocks, but they were made of wood and they were all angular. Some of them seemed to be made of stone and stuck high up in the air. 

His mother curled a lip, but didn’t bark a  _ Dangerous, Stay Away _ like he thought she would. Instead, she turned to the pack leader, who had noticed the structures as well. The leader crouched lightly, flicking her tail in a way that told the pack to stay there, and bounded forward. 

The pack rested in the field but didn’t truly relax. The young wolf was confused, a little afraid, and stood by his mother for comfort. She gave his cheek a few calming licks and glanced over at the other wolves doing the same to some of their own pups. Some of the older wolves went off to hunt, coming back with a total of two rabbits and a chicken. 

They waited, and the sun slowly started to sink by the time the pack leader returned. She smelled of old wood and dust, and of something else that the young wolf couldn’t recognize.  _ Safe _ , she huffed as she gave herself a quick groom.  _ Empty. No threat.  _

The pack relaxed at her affirmation and the atmosphere felt much less tense. The fear in the young wolf melted and he and his mother went over to the pile of prey and took a few bites of rabbit. They ended up spending the rest of the night curled up under the stars. The young wolf laid on his back, curled next to his mother, and stared up at the stars until he fell asleep. 

The journey past the strange, empty structures was more confusing than it was terrifying. The affirmation that they were safe filled the pack- and the young wolf- with confidence, and a few of the younger members of the pack ended up running towards it to explore. His mother gave him a small nip of  _ Careful _ as he ran to follow. 

The structures were large, but far from the largest things that the young wolf had ever seen. They smelled like wood and even tasted like wood when he took an experimental nibble, but he had never seen trees shaped like that. There were no leaves, instead, they were covered in white cobwebs. Some of the structures were made out of stone, which made a little more sense to the young wolf. He had seen stone structures throughout the pack's journeys, and he knew that they would form naturally or be placed there by the tall-dark-dangerous things. 

The strangest thing was that the structures were hollow, like tree trunks, but had things inside. He entered one out of curiosity, sniffing at a large square of wood. He barked in fear and leaped back when it opened at his experimental touch. He worked up the courage to look at it again and was shocked to find that it was hollow inside, like a small version of the structure he was in, but there were bits of leaves and seeds inside. He snuffled around the container but lost interest somewhat quickly. There was another thing in the structure with him, a sort of red soft square thing. The young wolf wrinkled his nose a little when he realized how many of the things in this place were square and artificially shaped. The red thing was soft, to his surprise, and his hand sank into it when he touched it. Dust billowed up when he let go, but his hand bounced a bit. He let out a loud bark, alerting the other young wolves to his position, and when he saw them peek in the entrance he leapt onto the red thing. He bounced at the force of it, and then bounced a few times on purpose. He jumped comfortably on the red thing, and a few of the younger wolves barked and yelped in excitement. They ran in, jumping on the red thing to bounce as well. 

They probably would have played like that for a while had an older wolf not poked their head in. They had a loud, warning bark to let the younger wolves know that the pack was moving on. The young wolves huffed in disappointment, but quickly filed out of the odd structure and rejoined the pack. 

The young wolf gave it one last, curious glance before he rejoined the pack in the field. 

\-----

The next time the pack passed by some of the structures, they stayed far away. 

The young wolf had seen the large wooden boxes from far away and had attempted to run off and investigate but was quickly pulled back by his mother.  _ Dangerous! _ She said, giving him a light nip. 

The young wolf whined, curious about  _ Why Dangerous? _ His mother pulled her lip back and growled a warning. He understood when not to push a question, and dropped the topic.

Something he noted as the pack passed by the field, however, is that these structures were different from the ones he had explored. Lights like small suns burned inside some of the structures and odd smells wafted through the air towards him. When the wind blew just right the young wolf could hear movement and strange noises. He realized it was a den, or a group of dens, full of unknown creatures. 

The pack continued on through the woods without pause, quickly passing the dens in the span of a night, and the young wolf followed dutifully. Even after they were long past the field, however, he kept thinking back to the dens and wondering what strange creatures could have lived there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you liked it! I apologise if anything is unclear : ( Tbh I don't really like how this chapter came out, so I make come back later and rewrite it! 
> 
> I'm probably not gonna do daily updates, but I do also have a chunk of chapter 3 already written so we'll see?? These chapters seem to be averaging between 1000-2000 words so I can for sure churn out a chapter at least once a week : )
> 
> If you guys liked the chapter or have any thoughts/theories/questions for the fic please let me know in the comments :D Getting comments gives me that sweet sweet serotonin, which keeps the writing braincell going
> 
> Catch you guys on the flip side


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Thank you guys for bearing with me and sticking around :) In return I offer you: a crumb of plot. Also this chapter is 2k words which is the longest one so far! Woo!   
> For real though thank you guys so much for all the hits, kudos, and bookmarks <3 <3
> 
> Just a few things to note for this chapter:  
> There's been a timeskip between this chapter and last chapter! Dream still remains without a name (sad) and is referred to as [the] wolf in this chapter, and is about 16/17 years old. 
> 
> There is a mild tw for this chapter since it opens with a hunting scene. Nothing too graphic, but there is a bit of animal death (a sheep dies). 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

The wind blew across the open plains, picking up bits of leaves, seeds, and smells from all the inhabitants and creatures that walked through it. The wolf opened his mouth to breath the wind in, fully taking in all the scents and information that it carried. 

He sat on a mound in the middle of the field. He was alone at the moment, taking advantage of his elevation to look for prey. He would be returning to his pack by the end of the day, hopefully with something to eat. A few stray sheep were grazing leisurely a ways off from him, and he had been watching them, waiting for them to come closer. 

The wolf wasn’t as fast as his fellow pack mates, but he was still quick. He shifted fluidly from his relaxed sit to a tense crouch, ready to spring. The sheep were coming his way, a few more paces and they would be within reach. He narrowed his eyes, and he could see their cloven feet moving slowly in his direction, their velvet noses nuzzling the grass, and their matted wool picking up stray burrs. 

The sheep took a few more steps, reaching for more grass, and crossed the invisible line that the wolf had set. In the blink of an eye he sprang from the rock, landing with a harsh thud on the ground and immediately taking off in a full run. The sheep were startled for a moment, freezing, and that was all it took for the wolf to be upon them. He leapt onto the back of the sheep, his arms wrapping around its head and his paws digging into its neck. His teeth were far too blunt to bite at the throat of the sheep effectively enough to kill it, but he was well on his way to becoming a seasoned hunter and had learned his own tricks. 

With one swift movement, the neck of the sheep was snapped. It’s body fell limply to the ground and the wolf gently sat back on his haunches, panting from the rush of adrenaline and the thrill of hunting. The other sheep had run away, but one was really all the wolf needed, as the other hunters in the pack would surely bring prey back as well. 

He rested for a while, breathing in the scents of the field again as he caught his breath, before leaning down and grabbing one of the sheep's legs firmly in his jaws and dragging it across the ground. He had to take breaks now and then, and sometimes he would grab the sheep's legs with his paws and pull it that way. He was far more used to pulling with his mouth though, and when he pulled the sheep with his paws he had to stay on three or less legs. 

  
  


\-----

  
  


The sun was dipping below the horizon when he arrived back at the temporary camp that the pack was staying in. It was in a small wooded clearing, protected by trees and bushes. It was the middle of the warm season, so the added shade was nice. 

The wolf brought the sheep carcass into the middle of the clearing and dropped it on the soft grass, panting heavily from his journey. A few other wolves lifted their heads and his arrival, and the sight of food made them get up to come over. Some of the warrior wolves snapped at each other over the food, calling dibs on certain parts of the sheep, but refrained from eating. The wolf turned away from the sheep, looking for a familiar face amongst the pack. 

A soft huff ruffled his pelt as his mother took a seat beside him in the clearing. She didn’t need to make any noise for the wolf to feel the pride radiating off of her. Her little pup had grown so much in the seasons since he had joined the pack, growing into a nearly full grown wolf, even if he was still slightly shorter than all the others when he stood on his four legs. The wolf nuzzled his mother affectionately before turning to look at the edge of the clearing. The last few members of the pack were returning with some prey, dragging a pig carcass and a few chickens. 

Before the fresh prey could be placed in the middle of the clearing, the leader wolf stepped over and sniffed the carcasses. She paused, assessing the scent, before curling a lip and looking over at the hunter wolves who had just returned.  _ Dangerous smell,  _ she snarled.  _ Where hunt?  _

_ Many pigs! Easy hunt!  _ The hunter wolves barked defensively. The rest of the pack shuffled uncomfortably, and some of the wolves- the mother wolf included- went over to sniff the prey for themselves. The mother wolf stiffened at the familiar, musky scent of two-leggeds, and a ripple of apprehension went through the pack. 

_ Bad! Dangerous! _ The leader barked back angrily. Two of the hunter wolves backed down immediately, tucking their tails and dropping their ears. The third wolf stood strong for a few moments, before backing down as well. The leader wolf gave them a glare, then turned to the rest of the pack.  _ Forbidden,  _ she said with her lashing tail and raised hackles.

Despite the source of the food being forbidden, the prey wouldn’t go to waste. After the slight altercation, the pack hesitantly tucked into the food. The wolf took a position between his mother and some of the other wolves his age, tearing into and taking bites from the flesh of the sheep that he had caught. He enjoyed mealtimes with the whole pack, it was certainly one of his favourite activities along with playing and hunting. The wolf also enjoyed running through the open fields that the pack passed through, relishing the feeling of the sun on his face and wind through his fur. The fake-pelts that were pasted to his body were practically his own, but his natural pelt- the one on the top of his head- had grown incredibly long, far longer than any of the fur on his pack mates’ heads. He didn’t mind it, though, and it was fun when the younger pups of the pack played with it. 

Now that he was a grown wolf, a trusted member of the pack and a skilled hunter, he had much more freedom. He could run off during the day, and as long as he returned by nightfall or with prey the pack would always wait for him. 

The pack finished off the meal- picking the last bits of meat off the bones of some of the carcasses and leaving the rest for the next day- before curling up in their own clumps around the clearing for sleep. The wolf curled up with his mother, as well as with some of the pups who had taken a liking to him, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Having a full stomach made his body feel drowsier, but his mind was still working through the brief argument that the leader had with the hunter wolves earlier. He had gotten a brief whiff of the forbidden smell, and there had been something about it. The wolf wasn’t able to place the musty, almost smokey smell that clung to the skin of the pig, but it was oddly familiar.  _ Maybe _ , the wolf thought absently as he drifted off into sleep,  _ maybe go closer _ .

  
  


\-----

The wolf was awake before the sun rose and took a few bites of the prey from the night before. He would be leaving to hunt again, or at least that's what the pack would think. He was going to follow the steps of the hunting group from the day before, and to find out what the odd scent had been. He could pick off a chicken or rabbit on his way back to cover his tracks. 

The meat from the pigs carcass wasn’t as fresh, but it was still delicious, and the wolf licked his lips once he was done with his quick meal. He gave his mother an affectionate lick- receiving a flick of her ear in response- and trotted off through the trees in the same direction that the hunting group had come from. 

Early mornings in the forest weren’t the wolf's favourite time- his favourite being midday when the heat beat down on his back and the sun illuminated the land- but it was nice. The air was still cool from the night before, a bit of residual fog drifting around. The grass moist beneath his paws and the light from the rising sun filtered through the trees and casted long shadows. Scents from the night were still sharp in the air, and the wolf could still catch a few whiffs of the tangy smell of the undead creatures and the dusty smell of the tall-bone creatures.

By the time he cleared the forest and arrived in a field, the sun was high overhead. Once in the open, the wolf paused for a moment to taste the air. A pleasant mix of warm air, flowers, and distant livestock greeted his nose. If the sun had a smell, the wolf thought, it would be similar to this. He took another deep breath, and buried below the natural smells of the field was the musty, smoky forbidden smell. Now that he was out in the open the wolf could run freely, and he took off across the plain with large gallops. 

A few horses grazed in the distance, idly raising their heads when they saw him pass. The pack didn’t bother with horses unless they were old and on their own, and even then taking them down was a group effort. It wasn’t worth trying to take down something so large and strong with paws that could snap the bones of a wolf with a single step. He passed a few cows too, slowing slightly to look at them and take in the smells again. The milky smell of cow greeted his nose this time, as well as the forbidden smell which was must stronger. 

The field tapered upwards into a hill, and once reaching the top the wolf sat down to take a break. The sun was still high in the sky, but he could see that it had passed its halfway point. It was a miracle that the hunting pack had been able to get back in such a timely manner, but they had left far earlier that the wolf had that morning. 

In front of him lay the rest of the field, which was carved through with a river. There was a forest too, at the edge of the field not too far off, and the forbidden smell was strongest from that area. The trees that rose were the tall kind, the ones dark wood and sharp leaves that got stuck in the pack’s fur. 

The wolf took a few more moments of rest before trotting to the river. He carefully avoided any rocks and took a deep drink from the cool stream. He paused mid drink to watch the salmon swim through the water, entertaining the thought of catching one for a moment before shaking his head and leaping over the stream. He didn’t have the time to be sidetracked if he was to make it to the source of the smell and return to his pack before the moon rose. 

He made it to the edge of the forest quickly, and paused for the final time to gather his wits. He put a hesitant paw into the treeline of the forest- where the pines from the trees were denser on the ground- before crossing the line entirely. There was no turning back, and now the smoky-musty smell was everywhere. The wolf would surely need to roll in the river on his way out to rub some of the smell off of himself, as there was no way it wasn’t sticking to his pelt. 

The smell grew and shrank as he made his way tentatively through the trees, weaving around bushes and ferns. It was incredibly strong in some areas- almost overwhelming- but barely there in others. He craned his neck for any kind of visual confirmation that anything was there, but couldn’t see anything through the dense trees.  Shadows were growing, and the wolf knew that the sun was touching the horizon. He turned away from the forest, intending to return to the pack in defeat, but paused when he saw something flickering through the trees. 

He crept through the bushes towards it, pausing now and then to see if it would make a noise, before he slid past a bush and into a clearing. It was a fire, but not like one that he had ever seen before. It was small- minuscule compared to some of the wildfires that he had seen overtake forests- but it was familiar. His mind flashed back to the dens he had seen seasons prior- to the small suns that decorated and flickered inside of them- and the wolf realised that whatever musty-smoky smell he had been following this whole time must have been the smell of the creatures who had lived in the mysterious dens. 

The small fire was clearly of no danger, as it only stood straight in the ground and didn’t move. As long as he didn’t touch it, the wolf would be safe. He edged towards it, looking at it from all angles. It was a piece of wood- a stick- with flame on top. The wolf knew that wood burned much faster than anything else, but seeing fire be placed specifically- intentionally, even- on a piece of wood like this was something he couldn’t quite grasp the concept of. 

He was so focused on the small flame in front of him and the connection he had made between the smell and the dens that he didn’t register the crashing of the bushes behind him until it was too late. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe sorry to finish it off on a cliffhanger! 
> 
> Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow with chapter 4! I already have some of it written and it's already my favourite chapter so far :^)
> 
> Be sure to comment if you liked it or have any questions/theories/thoughts as to what's gonna happen!
> 
> See you guys later!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!  
> Last chapter I said that 2k words was the longest chapter for this fic, but I lied because this chapter ended up being 3k words. I was just that desperate for a pov change, huh. Im so happy I get to finally write real dialogue you guys don't even know  
> Thank you guys so much for 1k+ hits!!! Enjoy the chapter : )

“I hate torch duty,” Sapnap grumbled angrily as he stabbed another torch into the ground. George rolled his eyes. 

“Then I hope you like mob-fighting duty as well, you big baby.” He scoffed back. Sapnap let out a noise of annoyance. 

“Whatever!” He called back. “I can take mobs, it’s this methodical shit that I hate. My back is hurting from all this bending down and placing.” 

Ah, whining. Classing Sapnap. George rolled his eyes again, making sure to flip his goggles up and face Sapnap this time so he was sure his friend would see it. “Suck it up, Sappy. Starting our own village is ten times tougher with mobs attacking from every angle.” 

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have gotten Wilbur to do it. Or Techno.” Sapnap grumbled. He and George were side by side, going around the village-to-be in a large circle. They alternated at placing torches even though that was a way more timely way of doing it, but it was the only way for George to ensure Sapnap stayed on task instead of running off into the woods to play with foxes or get eaten by mobs. 

“They’re busy fixing our house,” George reminded as he placed another torch. “I don’t know about you, but I would very much like our roof to be intact when I get back.” The previous night, a creeper had wandered into the area and had blown off half of their roof and some of their wall, forcing them to spend the entire evening rushing to patch it up and fight off mobs. Half their farm had to be rebuilt, and a bunch of their animals had gotten out and picked off by some of the predators in the area. It was what had led to the torch placing around the homes, as well as the addition of ‘get a cat’ to the community to-do list. 

Sapnap didn’t have a response to George’s reasoning and stayed quiet, angrily jamming a torch into the ground. 

“Don’t put them down that aggressively,” George chided. “The whole point of this is placing them, so don’t make them go out with how hard you’re slamming them into the ground.” 

“The torches aren’t that weak!” Sapnap said with a shrug. “Besides, we’re almost done aren’t we?” George thought for a moment before glancing up at the sky.

They had left between dawn and noon- at about 10 in the morning- and had been walking in a large circle all day. The sky above the trees was now a dark blue, filled with the wispy yellow clouds that only came around during sunset. “It’s about six, I think.” George mused. “Eight hours of torch placing is pretty good for a day's work.”

“Eight hours!??” Sapnap cried. “It feels more like twenty.” 

“Probably closer to six, actually. Our breaks don’t really count.” The two had brought food with them and had stopped for lunch and when the torch placing became a bit too unbearable. 

Sapnap let out an indignant huff. “I count every hour that we’re not in the house.” 

“Ok, drama queen.” George said, pulling a particularly thorny bush out of his path. “Look! We finally reached the other side of the circle.” 

“Finally!” Sapnap cheered, jogging over to the first torch they had placed that day. It sat next to a mossy rock, which Sapnap quickly took a seat on as his hands hovered around the torch. “My great saviour, my beacon in the dark, the symbol of-”

George tuned out his friend’s idiotic ramblings and turned to face the woods, examining the line of torches they had placed. The sky was darker now, the sun set pretty quickly these days, and the torches were much more visible. George’s eyes followed the steady line of torches that flickered from behind the bushes, before they darted to the right. There, deeper into the forest- in the direction of the plains biome that surrounded them- was a stray torch. 

“Damn,” George muttered. “That’s totally not gonna bother me.” 

“What will?” Sapnap asked, having finally realised that his friend wasn’t listening to his monologue. 

George raised his hand and pointed at the stray torch. “I don’t even know how it got out that far, but it’s completely out of formation.” 

“Oh,” Sapnap said somewhat sheepishly. “I may have stepped out and put it there or something, sorry.” He craned his neck from his position on the rock, and then shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal though, I think we can just leave it.”

“No, I’m definitely gonna think about it for the rest of the night if I don’t fix it. I’m gonna go grab it and move it back into the circle, ok?” George said, already making his way over to the wall of bushes that separated him from the stay torch. 

“Suit yourself, weirdo. I’m gonna sit on this cozy rock right here.”

“If i'm not back in like five minutes, assume I'm dead.” George said as the bushes engulfed him. He wasn’t holding a torch at the moment, as he had left his last one in the ground near Sapnap, and George hadn’t realised how dark the forest could be. The lack of light wasn’t as bad as a roofed forest, but it wasn’t great either. The torch in the distance grew closer as he brushed aside sweet berry bushes and ferns. 

“I swear to god, If anything attacks me right now.” George muttered. He hadn’t brought a sword with him on this trip, which may have been a bit dumb, but Sapnap was the warrior between the two of them. He paused briefly, straining his ears to listen for any zombie groans or the telltale rattle of a skeleton. The woods were deadly quiet, aside from the usual rusling of the leaves in the wind. The torch had dipped out of view, but George knew it was right behind the bush he was standing in front of. It was less of a bush and more like a clump of large ferns that towered over him. He took a deep breath, unsure of why he felt so apprehensive, and shoved the plants aside. 

It didn’t register for a moment. George saw it, but couldn’t quite comprehend it. His heart stuttered for a second before picking up the pace and sending crashing waves of adrenaline through his system. It was hunched over by the torch in the middle of the small clearing, extending a hand towards the small flame, and had it not been for the illumination of the torch George probably wouldn’t have been able to see it in the low light. His eyes trailed over the furs that covered its body, and his mind immediately went racing through a list of all the mobs he knew. 

He couldn’t tell the colors on the fur, and he took an unconscious step forward. That was quite possibly one of the worst moves he could have made, as the thing immediately snapped its head up from the torch and trained its eyes on George. 

Its body turned with its head in one solid movement, and he could now see that it was crouched on three legs, its left arm still hovering near the torch. The pelts on its back were wrapped around its front in a way that made it obvious that they hadn’t grown there naturally. 

George’s breath stuttered in his throat as he realised what he was looking at.  _ A person _ . Albeit a very skinny person, who’s face and arms were covered in dirt. Their cheeks looked sunken, and George could see the bones in their wrist, elbow, and knees poking up under the skin. Smudges of mud and a general layer of dust covered their face, caking especially around their hands and feet. A mass of yellowish-brownish hair fell from their head in matts, and their pale eyes had a sort of sheen in them. George found himself holding his breath when he finally met their eyes. There was a look there, something that George couldn’t quite place, and before he could stop himself he was reaching out. 

“Hey-” 

The stranger started, and in the blink of an eye they were dashing away in the opposite direction on all fours. That was enough to both confuse George further and snap him into action. He raced after the stranger, running past the forgotten torch and crashing through the bushes on the other side of the small clearing. 

“Hey! Wait!” George called out in between a few shouts of shock as branches and bushes whipped him in the face. He ran a few more paces before he felt his foot connect with a rock and his body crashed to the forest floor. “Shit!” George let out a groan as pain radiated from his ankle and knee. 

“Holy shit, George!” Sapnap’s voice cried out from behind him, and his friend made his way carefully through the mutilated bushes towards George. “You alright man?” He asked, reaching a hand down to George. 

George gladly accepted the hand, and allowed himself to be pulled up by Sapnap. “I’m fine. Did you see the guy?” 

“Guy?” Sapnap asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head too?”

“No!” George snapped back. “There was a guy there! He ran off when I tried to talk to him, and I ran after him which is how I ended up tripping.” 

Sapnap hummed in disbelief, looking around them for any evidence of another person. “I don’t really see anyone, Georgie.”

“What part of ‘he ran off’ do you not understand.” George growled. Sapnap raised his hands in a non threatening gesture. 

“Alright. If you really think it’s something to be worried about we can go talk to Bad about it ok?” George huffed, but nodded. 

“Great, let's get back to the house then. I think your knee is bleeding, and it would really suck if you got dirt or something in there.” Sapnap said as he wrapped an arm around George’s shoulders for support. 

“Yeah, an infection does not sound good.” George muttered, leaning into his friend’s arm. 

  
  


\-----

“You better not be pranking me,” Bad said with a hint of warning on his tone. They were in the kitchen, George sitting on a chair as Bad knelt in front of him. George’s pant leg was pulled up to his thigh to give Bad plenty of room to disinfect and dress his scraped knee. It wasn’t that bad a scrape, but a lot of dirt had gotten in it and it was taking a while to get out. Sapnap stood at the door to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 

“I’m not,” George said while biting back a hiss. Bad was applying some more alcohol with a cotton swab. “I swear I saw someone.” 

Bad sat back, looking up at George’s face. They sat for a moment, staring into each others faces, before Bad sighed and turned back to the task at hand. “Ok, but if you’re playing around I’m gonna be really disappointed.” 

“But so what if whatever George saw was real?” Sapnap asked. “And I’m not saying that it’s not real!” He added quickly, as George and Bad had both turned to fix him with a look.

“Well,” Bad sighed. “It could be someone living nearby, which would mean we have neighbours.”

“It’s always good to know who you live near,” George said. Bad nodded.

“It could also be someone who needed help, or someone who’s lost. You said that they were really skinny, right?”

George hummed in agreement. “Yeah, and really dirty too. They looked like they hadn’t eaten anything or had a bath in weeks.”

“If they needed help, why would they run off?” Sapnap asked.

“Sometimes people who need help will run away from everyone because they assume that they’ll get hurt.” Bad said sagely, applying the last touches to the bandage on George’s knee. “I would really hate it if that were the case, and there is still a chance I could be mistaken.” He got up off the floor, dusting off his own knees, and smiled at George. “You could have been mistaken too, you know. It was dark out.” 

George groaned and stood up, accepting Bad’s steading hands as he made his way out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sapnap trailed behind them. “I already said I know what I saw,” George snapped back.

“Look, we can go back tomorrow during the day and see if we find anything, ok?” Bad offered, as he helped George lay down on the couch. “And if there is some kind of… skinny, long haired, furry person, we’ll at least know that he exists for sure and we’ll figure out what to do from there. Sound good?” 

George hummed, still a little grumpy that Bad and Sapnap didn’t really believe him. He was tired though, and those eight hours of walking around combined with the distrubed sleep from the night before were catching up on him. “Sounds like a plan, Bad.” He murmured, curling up into the blanket that Bad had placed over him. 

“Good,” Bad said, giving George a quick pat on the head. “Now go to bed, you muffin. You’re exhausted.” 

George nodded, and whispered a ‘goodnight’ back to Bad before slipping into unconsciousness. 

  
  


\------

The wolf raced through the trees, the bushes that he had carefully avoided on his journey in whipping him in the face and scratching his arms as he bounded out of the forest. He burst out the other side, and didn’t even pause as he crashed through the river and took off in full run through the plains. 

He passed the elevated mound in the field, then the spot where the horses had been, and kept running at full speed. Panic and fear filled his every movement, and the pure adrenaline from seeing whatever that  _ thing _ was keeping him going. 

The wolf had never seen anything quite like it. It had stood up similar to the undead creatures did, but it was taller somehow, and much more colorful. Its face had been the most confusing, and it had the largest eyes that the wolf had ever seen. Large, shiny black eyes with white edges around them that stared straight through the wolf’s soul. The scent had been the strangest, and the forbidden scent had been only one of many that clung to the creature’s pelts. The wolf was disappointed in himself, at how he could have missed the confusing myriad of smells and the loud noises that the creature made as it approached. 

The forest where the pack was staying was reached in record time and the wolf didn’t bother to slow down as he pelted through the trees, dodging both dangerous creatures and tree trunks. The moon was high in the sky, and it was not a safe time to be out. 

He reached the clearing, and immediately collapsed on the ground in exhaustion. He could hardly breath from how hard he had been running, and he could feel his heartbeat thudding through his entire body. 

The mother wolf was by his side in an instant, licking his face and keening in worry. He let out a pitiful whine in response, burying his face in her fur and taking a deep sniff of her familiar and calming scent. They sat for a few moments, curled around each other, before the wolf sat up a little so that he wasn’t fully collapsed on the ground. 

Most of the pack had gathered around, looking at him curiously. The leader wolf was standing by as well, and took this moment to step forward. The mother wolf took a few steps back, and the leader came towards the wolf and gave his pelt a deep sniff. She pulled away quickly, her lip curling. 

_ Forbidden scent _ , she growled. Her eyes bored into the wolf’s, who let out a little whine of shame. He curled in on himself, making himself smaller under the towering form of the leader wolf. 

His mothers gaze sharpened, and she didn’t need to say anything for the wolf to feel the disappointment rolling off of her in waves. 

_ Why? _ The leader wolf growled.  _ Why go? _

_ Curious,  _ the wolf whined, training his eyes on the leader's paws. That was apparently the wrong answer, as the leader suddenly lunged and sunk her teeth into his pelt. Her teeth pierced through the fake-pelts and sank into his flesh, and the wolf let out a yelp of pain. The leader dragged him aggressively through the clearing and back towards the forest from where he had just burst through. She dropped him unceremoniously at the base of a tree.

_ Go _ , she growled.  _ Leave. Find answer, no more curiosity _ .  _ Then return _ .

The wolf looked up at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. He opened his mouth to let out some kind of bark or whine, either to ask or beg, but before he could the leader simply turned away with a flick of her tail and returned to her own corner of the clearing. The rest of the pack followed suit, returning to their own tasks. 

The mother wolf was at her pups side in an instant, licking the area where he had been bitten and was now steadily bleeding. He whined a little, brushing against her. She licked his nose just like she always used to do when he was a pup.  _ Go _ , she whimpered.  _ Find, then return _ . 

The wolf wanted to argue and tell her that he wouldn’t be curious anymore, that he would stay in the pack and be loyal, but he knew it was a lie. He knew that he would live in uncertainty of what the odd creature was unless he went to find out, and besides, the word of the leader was final. 

He whined, and curled up with his mother, vowing to take off the next morning. She licked his nose again, curling up beside him as well. The two of them fell into a tense, dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> I had a bit of an epiphany last night after finished writing this chapter, because I wasn't really sure if this was where I wanted to take the fic. I had a moment of clarity in the sleep though, and woke up with the realisation that I dont actually give that much of a shit as long as Im having fun. 
> 
> Be sure to comment if you liked the chapter or have any questions, and I'll see you guys next time : )


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> We're back to 2k words, sadly. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

The wolf woke before the sun, much like the morning before, and gave his mother a final sad lick before he took off. He paused at the edge of the clearing, glancing back at his pack one final time, before turning away. He would be returning, there was no way he could stay away from his family forever, but he knew that this forced-journey was necessary.

The early morning didn’t feel as lively as it had the day before, and the wolf didn’t bother picking up on the scents around him as he passed through the forest and came out into the field. The sun wasn’t as high, as he had left much earlier, and he made his way towards the woods where he had seen the strange creature. 

He still wasn’t sure what exactly the creature was, if it was friendly or dangerous or potential prey. It could be strong, but the way it stood and moved in the brief few moments that the wolf had seen it didn’t make it seem like that big a threat. That didn’t mean it didn’t have hidden skills, though, and the wolf would have to be careful the next time he encountered one. 

Halfway through the field, the wolf took off to hunt some food. He quickly chased down a rabbit and ate half of it to replenish his strength. He picked up the remaining bits of the carcass and carried it with him on his way to the woods. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to hunt later, or if there would even be any prey, so keeping a bit of food on him was the best course of action. 

The horses were there again, and the wolf paused to watch them. There were four of them, three adults and one foal, all varying shades of brown and white. His chest hurt a little, and his eyes burned in the strange way that they did sometimes. The wolf whimpered a little, missing the pack- his mother and his family- already. One of the horses lifted its head from the grass to give him a curious look, and he turned away to continue on his journey. 

Other than the horses and the rabbit that he had caught, the wolf didn’t see any other creatures. He passed the area where the cows were and sniffed the air again, tasting the strange scent of the odd creature that tainted the wind. It had been so thrilling and mysterious before, but now it tasted a bit like ash on his tongue. 

By the time the wolf could see the forest, the sun was high overhead. He made his way to the river where he had drank the day before and laid down beside it, taking a few laps of the water and relaxing in the sun. He was glad he had the foresight to bring the rabbit with him, as his shoulder where the pack leader had bitten him had begun to flare with pain. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to hunt at this point, or even run for that matter.

He laid his head on his arms, curling himself up in the grass by the bank of the creek. He wouldn’t get too far in the forest with his shoulder still hurting, and he wanted to be able to run if he needed to. 

Hopefully once the sun dipped below the horizon his shoulder wouldn’t hurt anymore, and he could go look for the strange-small flame again. 

A small huff left him as he trained his eyes on the forest edge. He had a clear view of it, and was at a good enough distance that if any dangerous creatures came out of it they wouldn’t be able to reach him before he woke up. The safe distance, the bit of rabbit in his stomach, and the mind-numbing pain in his shoulder worked together to make him feel drowsy and tired. A small nap couldn’t hurt, the wolf supposed, at least until the sun began to set. His eyes slipped closed and he fell into a light sleep. 

  
  


\----- 

“I know you had the torch as a marker, but are you sure we aren’t lost?” Bad asked, sweeping a sweet berry bush aside with the stick he had picked up.

  
“It’s around here somewhere,” George said tensely. “It’s harder to see now that it's light out, but I know that it was pretty close to where we placed our first torch.”

“I can vouch for that,” Sapnap agreed, angrily tugging some ferns out of the way. Bad hummed in acknowledgement, pulling some of the ferns away from Sapnap’s head with his stick. 

The three of them were in a sort of triangle formation, with George taking the lead and Bad and Sapnap bringing up the rear. Bad reached ahead of George with his stick to brush aside any sweet berry bushes that couldn’t be avoided, but otherwise followed George as he tried to find the clearing where he had seen the person the night prior. 

Unfortunately, they seemed to be somewhat lost at the moment. 

“I’m glad we left early,” Bad sighed. “We can always try to turn back when things start getting dark. Please do try to find the torch clearing soon, George.” 

George stepped carefully around a rock and rounded a tree, looking for any familiar landmarks. “I’m working on it,” he said with a touch of worry in his voice. Honestly, he felt like he was walking in circles. 

The trio worked their way through a tight grouping of trees, then over a small ditch, then through a particularly nasty batch of sweet berries (Bad grabbed a few berries “for later” and shoved the rest of the bushes aside with his stick). Noon rolled around, and Bad had suggested they stop for lunch. 

  
“Sap, could you move that bush out of the way and we can sit behind it and eat?” 

“Ugh!! We’re never gonna find this freaking clearing!!” Sapnap whined, shoving the large fern out of the way to reveal a single torch in the middle of a small clearing. 

“Holy shit!! There it is!” George cried happily, hopping over to the clearing.

“Language!” Bad said, following George into the clearing and pulling Sapnap in with him. “Thank goodness we found it, though. It’s a nice clearing too, so we can have some lunch!” 

Bad pulled his pack off his back and pulled out the picnic supplies with Sapnap while George walked slowly around the clearing. 

“They were standing here by the torch, and then they ran this way into the woods. Look, you can even see some of the branches are broken.” George said, squatting beside a demolished bush. 

“You followed him out, too.” Sapnap reminded, taking a seat on the picnic blanket that Bad had just laid out. 

George nodded. “We can follow this trail! They went really fast so I bet they left a trail of broken branches and stuff.” 

“That’s a good plan, George. Now get over here and have some lunch.” Bad patted the picnic blanket, and called George over. 

\---

Once lunch was finished, the trio quickly packed up and followed the trail of broken branches. George had been right, and the trail was pretty easy to see. It winded in a strange zig-zag pattern, dodging around trees and rocks but running right through some berry bushes. George winced when he saw a demolished rose bush, both feeling sorry for the plant and the bare hands and feet of the person who had run through it. 

Sapnap’s grumbles were far less as they followed the trail, and George’s anxiety was lessened. The quick lunch of sandwiches and pumpkin pie kept all of their stomachs sated. Bad hummed a few tunes as he continued to swat bushes out of the way. As they went, George pointed out a few places where the person's fur cloak had caught on branches and bushes, leaving little tufts of fur. 

Eventually the trail led to the edge of the forest, and the trees became more spaced out. The light was brighter, and Bad tucked the stick into his backpack. They reached the tree line and stopped, taking in the scene before them. 

The plains biome was beautiful, even if it was incredibly common. The field in front of them sprawled out, wrinkling into small hills in some areas and smoothing into small dips in others. Flowers were sprinkled throughout the grass, and there were a few clusters of sunflowers here and there. A couple trees dotted the horizon, and a small river about thirty meters away from the forest edge trailed lazily through the grass. 

George’s eyes were drawn to the river after a second scan over the scene in front of them. Or more accurately, the figure that was laying across the river. It was the person from the woods, the ugly patchwork fur coat was unmistakable. They lay on the opposite side of the river, facing the woods with their eyes closed. They looked like they were asleep. 

“Bad,” George hissed, his hand reaching up to grab his friend’s jacket. “Across the river.” Bad turned, and judging from the way he stiffened slightly, he saw them. Sapnap turned his head too, and hummed slightly. 

  
“So you really weren’t lying? I wasn’t really expecting this, if I’m being honest.” 

George turned to Sapnap, his mouth open to curse out his friend, but Bad’s hand on his shoulder silenced him. He turned back to the figure across the river, and sucked in a sudden breath when he realised that the person's eyes were now open and staring directly at them. Other than the eyes, they hadn’t moved a muscle, but George could tell that they had tensed up. 

Before George could say anything about staying still as to not make the person run, Bad took a few steps forward. 

“Hey! Are you alright? Do you need help?” He shouted out at the figure. 

At the combined motion and noise, the figure suddenly pulled themselves up into that odd four legged squatting pose that George had seen them in. They immediately backed up a few steps, still facing the forest and the trio but still in a position where they could easily escape. 

“Bad…” George said, about to tell his friend that the person was for sure going to run away again. Bad didn’t react though, and stood still while still looking at the person. His brow was furrowed, and he was clearly deep in thought.

The three of them stood, not moving a muscle as the strange person on the opposite side of the river stood as still as a statue. George wasn’t really sure how long they stood before Bad took a deep breath. 

“Let’s head back to the house for now.”

“What?” George turned away from the person to look at Bad in disbelief. 

“Last night I said we would come out here to see if we could see him, then we would go back and decide what to do. We’re looking at him now, so that's one part done.” Bad looked away from the person and over at George. “Besides, I don’t think there’s much else we can do at this point, so it’s safer to just go back.”

George gnawed his lip for a bit, but nodded. “Ok, let’s go then.” 

Sapnap muttered something like ‘finally,’ but George saw that his expression was painted in confusion and a bit of worry. Bad took the lead into the woods this time, pausing at the first tall bush to glance back at the person before pushing his way into the forest.

\-----

The wolf watched the strange two-legged creatures walk away back into the forest. Presumably towards their den. 

Waking up to the sight of them at the tree line had not been an incredibly enjoyable experience. The wolf had been resting when he heard the distant sound of their chattering and their scent drifting through the wind. He had opened his eyes to see not one, but three of them. One of them was familiar, with its sky-colored pelt and gigantic eyes. The other two were odd, one of them wearing a night colored pelt that covered its entire body and face, and the other wearing a snow-colored pelt with an odd similarly colored band across its face. 

The night-colored one had stepped forward and barked something at him, and although the wolf couldn’t understand it he could hear the confusion and worry in its tone. He had scrambled away, tense and ready to run, in case they came any closer. 

To his own confusion and mild shock, the two-leggeds hadn’t approached any further, instead chattering briefly amongst themselves before turning away and returning to the woods, led by the night-colored one. Maybe he was their leader? Did they have leaders? 

The wolf shook the questions out of his head. He was glad that they had left him alone for now, but he was still worried. They knew he was there, and he was still wounded- his shoulder hadn’t stopped hurting after the nap. He wouldn’t be able to run as fast as usual if they came after them, and he didn’t know what they wanted from him. 

Hesitantly, the wolf turned away and limped over to a large outcropping of rocks that stuck out near one of the hills in the field. He curled up under it, hoping that the rocks would protect him from any rain or hostile creatures that might come after him in the night. The sun was still in the sky, but the wolf didn’t have the energy to hunt or move anywhere too far away. His shoulder throbbed as he found a comfortable position, and when he slept he dreamt of his pack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you liked the chapter! Finally, after all these years... Muffinteers 
> 
> I don't have much to say here. I still haven't started writing chapter 6 orz but I have it planned so I'm gonna try to slam it out tonight.  
> I'm honestly so proud of myself for writing this much in such a short time?? Wtf where have all these words been hiding.
> 
> Anyway, if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories about the story please let me know!  
> I'll see you guys next time :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> Sorry this chapter is a few hours later than usual. I was busy all day and got to editing far later. 
> 
> Anyway, we got some new characters this chapter! Woo! Just so things are a little less confusing, I'm putting everyone's ages here because I did age some of them down. 
> 
> Bad is 21-22, Sap and Dream are 16-17, George, Wilbur, and Techno are 17-18, Tommy and Tubbo are about 11-12, and Phil is 27-30.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

“So we’re sure that the forest boy is real?” Philza was sitting at the round table that sat in the kitchen. On his left, Techno stood with his hands crossed and Wilbur sat idly strumming his guitar. On his right George and Sapnap stood, and across from his Bad sat. Since they were in Philza’s house, Tommy and Tubbo were off somewhere in the house. Philza assured them that the boys were playing in their room, but George was fairly certain he had seen brunette and blonde heads peeking around the door to the kitchen. 

“He’s definitely real,” Bad sighed. “Three of us saw him, there’s no way it was a mob.” 

“And we’re sure he’s not just a lost village kid?” Techno asked skeptically. Wilbur paused his strumming and looked up to catch the conversation. 

“The nearest village is miles away, and if he was lost he would have responded to us when we called to him.” Bad’s finger idly rubbed across the glass of water that Philza had gotten for him earlier. 

Philza tapped the map that was laid across the table. “It was east of here, right?” His frown deepened slightly when Bad and George nodded. “There aren’t any towns that way for a while, so if he is a village kid he’s been lost for a while.” 

The six of them sat quietly, the younger members of the group looking at Bad and Phil to see what their reactions would be. 

After the silence started to stretch on, Wilbur spoke up. “So, what are we going to do about it?” 

Phil blew a raspberry and sat back in his chair. “I think it’s safe to say that he isn’t a threat to us at this point, so we could probably do nothing.”

“But we can’t just leave him out there!” Bad cried out, and Phil lifted a hand.

“I said we  _ could _ do nothing, but knowing us that’s not happening. It’s August now, and things are just gonna get colder from here on out. I think it’s fair to say that he'll probably still be out there unless we do something.” 

“That, and he’s just a kid,” Bad said, running a hand down his face. Techno frowned. 

“Are you sure? You did say he was covered in dirt.”   
  
“If he’s not a kid, he’s at least tiny.” George spoke up. 

Something sparked in Phil’s eye, and he sat up again. “Do you think we could bring him here? We could clean him up then take him to the village and see if anyone is missing a kid?”

Bad hesitated. “From the looks of it, it would be like bringing a wild animal into our house. I think the kid may even think he’s some kind of animal...”

“Where would we even put him?” Sapnap asked. 

“Bad, you have the spare guest room in your house don’t you?” Phil asked, looking at the man across from him.

Bad nodded. The guest room had been built to accommodate any friends who came to visit, but had been temporarily converted into a storage room. 

Phil hummed. “As for the kid being wild… who knows? You said he had been laying there, so it’s possible he was shaken from just waking up? And George, when you saw him it was dark out. He could have mistaken you for something else.” 

Bad scratched his cheek. “I don’t know. He looked… terrified. He saw us, and he registered us, but I think he’s scared of people. I’m not sure if that's because people have hurt him in the past or if it's because he can’t remember ever seeing people before.” 

“That complicates things, then.” Phil’s frown deepened. “Once we get him into the guest room we could probably feed him and clean him up, maybe try to socialise him between the six of us.”

“Getting him into the guest room is the main issue here, right?” George said, stepping a little closer to the table.

Bad and Philza nodded. 

“I could probably catch him,” Techno said suddenly, raising his hand. “You said he was skinny, yeah? That means he’s probably hungry. Plus, if he’s acting like a wild animal, we could just try to catch him like one.” 

“What do you have in mind?” Philza asked, pushing a chair out. Techno walked over and took a seat, grabbing the pen that Philza handed him and flipping the map over to draw on the back. 

“Well…”

\-----

It had been a few days since the wolf had last seen the two-leggeds. After the first day, his shoulder had stopped hurting enough for him to return to the woods. He had found the small flame quickly, but had been unable to find much else. He walked around for the entire day, eating a few of the small red berries to sustain himself, before returning to the rock outcropping. It was his new (temporary) den, and he had put a few plants and moss on the ground to cushion himself when he slept. 

On the second day he had walked around the field looking for prey- finding nothing other than a few bugs (which he ate) and the horses that he chose to avoid. He went out in the night too, after napping through the sunset, and found nothing but dangerous creatures. 

The third day he hesitantly returned to the forest, going in deeper than he had ever done before. He was hungry, and his mind had brought him back to the event that triggered this whole mess. The pack of hunter wolves had found an easy meal- the pig with the two-legged scent all over it- and although it was possible he would be caught the wolf was too hungry to care. 

The two-legged scent was truly overwhelming, but he had begun to get used to it. It was what lay beneath it that was interesting, and the wolf lifted his head to the air to take a smell. There was something new that he could sense, something that could be food. 

He found it quickly, hunger making his senses sharper and pulling him through the forest. It was laid out in a clearing, and the wolf stopped when he saw it. His shoulder was starting to burn, and he wasn’t really sure what exactly lay in front of him. 

He stood at the edge of a small clearing, in the middle was something that could have been food, but the wolf couldn’t quite tell. It was brown and lumpy, shaped a little bit like a rock. He sniffed the air, and the two-legged scent was much stronger. That didn’t mean much though, as the whole forest reeked of them. The brown thing smelled new and different, and the wolf wasn’t sure what to make of it. He dropped into a crouch, drawing himself towards it slowly. 

He batted the thing with his paw, and then nosed it with his short snout. It rolled a little, but didn’t move. Clearly it wasn’t living, so the wolf took an experimental bite out of it.

The thing tore nicely, and was somehow both soft and chewy in his mouth. It’s flavour wasn’t as strong as any kind of meat, and it wasn’t sweet like any of the berries the wolf had eaten. It tasted edible, and good, and the wolf started quickly taking bites out of the strange food. 

The hunger and rush of a meal distracted him, and he heard the shuffling of plants around him too late. Before he could even move, the two leggeds leapt out from the bushes around him, surrounding him. 

Fear coursed through him, the food forgotten as he tried to turn and run. The path behind him was blocked by a familiar two legged- the night-colored one. The wolf turned again, and panicked when he saw that there were more stepping out of the bushes. The three he had seen before were there- the snow and sky colored ones- along with two new ones. One draped in green pelts the same color as the bushes, and the other covered in red. The green one started making noises at him, moving its arms strangely. 

The wolf bared his teeth, a low snarl coming out of his throat. The green two-legged stopped its moving, and then let out a sort of bark. The red one leapt at the wolf suddenly, a large white pelt coming out from behind him and the wolf tried to jump out of the way. The other two-leggeds had closed in though, forcing him back into the white thing. 

They were hunting him, the wolf realised belatedly as the two leggeds wrapped him in the white pelt. They were hunting him and he was going to be eaten. Fear flashed through him, but it was quickly replaced with rage.  _ Not without a fight, they weren’t _ . Quick as a flash, the wolf sank his teeth into the flesh of one of the two-leggeds. Blood flooded his mouth, and a loud yelp came from one of the two-leggeds. He continued thrashing, hoping the two-leggeds would tire and let him go, but all that resulted in was even more paws being wrapped around him. The white pelt was wound tighter, and one of the paws hit his shoulder.

The wolf let out a wailing cry of pain, his thrashing paused for a moment before continuing stronger than before. His limbs here immobilised, and he lunged for the paws and faces of the two-leggeds with his teeth. 

He snapped at them, whining, growling, and barking as they maneuvered him. They were going to kill him, they were going to eat him, but at least the wolf was making it difficult. One of the two-leggeds moved its paw to be closer to his face, and the wolf lunged for it. 

Before his teeth could wrap around the flesh, however, something hard connected with the side of his head and his world went dark. 

\-----

“Holy crap,” Sapnap said. The boy had gone limp in the sheet that they had wrapped him in. Sapnap put his sword back in its sheath. He had just smacked the hilt across the boy’s head, causing him to pass out almost instantly. 

“That was quick thinking,” Phil said, breathless. “Thanks, Sapnap.” Sapnap just nodded in response, his eyes still trained on the boy in front of him. 

They were all looking at him. For such a small thing, it had taken nearly five people to subdue him. Techno’s ‘let's throw a sheet over him and carry him back to the house’ plan had room for improvement, but it had clearly gotten the job done. 

“That was terrifying,” George said in a small voice. Bad looked at him sympathetically. The inhuman growls and barks that the boy had made were… unsettling, to say the least. Phil and Bad had shared a look briefly when the boy first pulled his lips back and snarled at them. 

“You did a good job, mate.” Phil said kindly. “Let’s get this guy back to the house. Wilbur should have prepared the guest room by now.” 

The five of them readjusted slightly, so that only Bad and Philza were carrying the now unconscious boy. George and Sapnap walked behind while Techno led the way back to the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it!
> 
> Honestly Im not super satisfied with this chapter, especially since an important plot point happened in it, but I think it at least gets the point across. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll update again tomorrow, but I am incredibly tired so I'm not finishing the next chapter the night before like I usually do.
> 
> Anyway, as per usual please leave a comment if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories! I'll see you guys next time : )


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back for chapter 7!
> 
> I have officially uploaded every day for a week!!! pog!!!  
> Also I got a bunch of comments on the last chapter so.. Hello any new ppl! Also thank you for 2k+ hits and 300+ kudos (holy shit!!!!)
> 
> Anyways, on with the chapter!

Once they arrived back at the house, they dropped the boy off in the guest room. Wilbur had cleared it out, leaving only the bed, closet, and bedside tables inside. The bed had a few pillows and blankets on it, and the closet was completely empty. “I moved everything else into our attic,” Wilbur said.

Bad thanked him as he and Philza carefully moved the unconscious boy’s body into the room and placed him on the bed. 

“Should we wait until he wakes up?” George asked, hesitantly. 

“Probably,” Philza said somewhat reluctantly. “Just to make sure Sapnap didn’t hit him too hard.”

“Hey! I know my strength,” Sapnap huffed. 

“You guys do that,” Techno grumbled. “I have to go dress this damn bite wound. If he gave me rabies I’m gonna be so mad.” 

Sapnap laughed and Techno flipped him off as he left the room. Bad gave him a look before he stepped out, and then turned to Philza.

“I do hope the biting thing isn’t gonna be a habit…” He sighed, rubbing his cheek. “We should probably keep him wrapped up for now. He might freak out when he wakes up, but at least it’ll give us time to get out of the room if he tries to attack us.”

Phil nodded, taking a seat on the floor near the door. The others in the room followed suit- except for Wilbur, who bid farewell and stepped out to check on Techno. George sat closest to the bed, keeping his eye on the boy. 

He was still wrapped in the sheet, his furs still on under it. They had decided not to take them off for the time being, hoping that they would give him some familiarity. Up close, the boy was much dirtier. Clumps of dirt and moss were tangled in his long hair, and smudges of mud and what might have been blood caked parts of his face and arms. 

“We’ll take the furs off when he calms down enough to be given a bath,” Phil said, noticing George was staring at the boy.

“When do you think that’ll be?” Sapnap asked, wrinkling his nose a little at the sight of the boy. “He’s kinda nasty, no offence.”

“I’m not sure… Probably when he doesn’t run away whenever he sees us.” Bad said with a sad tone. 

“We could probably get him a bit more used to us if we feed him,” Philza said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “What do you think we should give him?”

“He’s really small. I’m not sure if it's because he’s young or if it's because he’s malnourished- probably a bit of both- but we have to keep in mind that he probably hasn’t had a consistent diet.” Bad frowned, glancing over at the boy, and then back at Phil. “We don’t know what he’s been eating up until now, but with the way he reacted to the bread, I’m gonna guess he’s been scavenging and eating mostly raw foods up until now.”

“Raw foods?” Sapnap asked. “Like, raw meat? Is that even possible?”

“Yep. For it to be safe you have to cook the surface of the meat, but if it’s fresh it’s likely safe to eat. You can still get sick, though, so eating cooked meat is much safer. As for what we’re going to feed him… We need to start off with something nutritious but not too heavy. Rice is a safe bet, maybe some soup too.” 

Phil and Bad continue discussing meal plans and making a small shopping list of ingredients, Sapnap chiming in now and then, as George tuned out. He looked back at the boy, who was still sleeping, and was shocked to see that his brow was furrowed. His lip was curled slightly, and George could see him twitching a little under the sheet. 

“He’s dreaming…” George muttered, and Sapnap turned to him. 

“Hm? He’s Dream?” 

Philza paused in his conversation and glanced up.

  
“No,” George said, pointing at the boy. “He’s Dreaming.” 

“Oh,” Sapnap said. “Good, because Dream would be a weird name to have. He’s more like a nightmare, to be honest.” 

“Don’t be rude, Sapnap.” Bad chided. “I think Dream is a fine name.”

“We can call him that for now,” Philza suggested. “I’ve just been calling him ‘kid’ but giving him a name would be helpful.”

“What if he already has a name?” Sapnap asked. 

“Then he can tell us what it is and we’ll call him that, I guess.” George shrugged.

Sapnap hummed in consideration, and then got up off the floor and stretched. “I’m gonna head downstairs and let Techno and Wilbur know about our new pet Dream. If he’s moving around in his sleep, I’m gonna assume I didn’t permanently damage him with my sword.” He winced slightly at the memory, and then made his way out of the room. 

Bad waved him off, and then turned to look at Dream again with a small smile. “I think it fits, don’t you?” 

“It’s alright,” George said with a shrug. Honestly, he was just glad that he had something to call Dream instead of just referring to him as ‘the boy’ in his mind. Philza laughed.

“Hopefully he understands what we mean when we talk to him. Maybe choosing a noun as a name isn’t the best idea when we start teaching him more words, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Bad nodded. “Do you really think he can’t speak?” 

“He can probably speak, but I don't think he could understand us when we were catching him in the woods. He started growling and shit, so I’m gonna assume he doesn’t speak or understand english.” 

George nodded in agreement. Seeing such animalistic behaviour coming from a person was… disturbing. He knew that humans were incredibly good at mimicking noises, but hearing the incredibly wolf-like growls and whines come from Dream had been an experience that George wasn’t too keen on repeating.  _ Well _ , he thought.  _ I’ll probably have to get used to it, since he’s gonna be staying in the room down the hall from mine _ . 

Bad had offered to let George sleep on the couch if Dream got too noisy, and George wasn’t sure if he would need to take up the offer or not yet. His thoughts were cut short when Philza suddenly got up.

“We better head out,” he whispered. George turned to look at Dream, who was laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. He blinked slowly, eyes trailing across the wood planks that made up the ceiling. 

Philza crept to the door, opening it slowly and George and Bad made their way over towards it. Bad hesitated by the door, watching at Dream’s head slowly turned towards them. George could tell the exact moment when the current situation caught up to him, as his pale eyes suddenly lit up with emotion- fear, as well as something else that George couldn’t quite pin down- and a high whine came out of his throat. 

“It’s ok,” Bad cooed, stepping back and holding his hands up to show that he wasn’t a threat. “We’re leaving.” 

Dream continues to whine, struggling a little in the sheet, as Bad leaves the room. George hesitated, looking at Dream, before he walked out of the room as well. Philza closed the door behind him once he left, quickly locking it. 

“It locks from the inside, too.” Philza muttered. “But I don’t think he can understand locks quite yet.” 

The three of them stood, hesitating by the door as whines and yelps emanated from behind the door, before they turned to make their way down to the kitchen. 

\-----

The two-legged creatures left the small den, leaving him alone in the white pelt. Once they were gone, his struggles increased until the pelt around him started to unravel. He slid out of it quickly, leaping from the strange soft thing he had been laid on and landed quickly on the hard floor. It was made of wood, as were the walls, and the wolf was reminded distantly of the first two-legged den he had been in. That one had been abandoned, though, and this one had clearly been somewhat lived in. The two-legged stench was everywhere, as was a scent of dust. 

He paced around the room, whining a bit and sniffing every corner to check and see if there was a way out. There wasn’t, and he was thoroughly trapped. 

He hopped onto the strange soft thing again. It was covered in pelts similar to the one that he had been trapped in. He grabbed them with his teeth and dragged them off the surface, pulling them into the corner. They were quite soft, and he could use them as bedding if needed.

Once he was done bragging the pelts into the corner, he paced the room again. An anxious energy bubbled under his skin, and he walked over to the section of the wall that had opened to let out the two-leggeds. He reached out to it with a paw, pushing against it. It rattled slightly, but stuck tightly closed. He whined, pushing against it again. It refused to open, and he barked at it, slamming against it with his good shoulder. It still refused to bark, so he growled at it and continued pacing around the room. 

He walked around, sniffing the spots around the room with the most distinct scents, and exploring the odd box-like things that were also in the room. He tried to get them to open like the similar one in the abandoned den, but these didn’t respond. A few scents were concentrated in a few spots near the opening of the den, and the wolf was starting to be able to differentiate the scents of the different two-leggeds. 

After a while of walking around and whining at different objects, he had made no progress. His hunger was still raging in his stomach and his shoulder,which had been hurt during his capture, was flaring up with pain again. He made his way over to the pile of pelts in the corner, curling up apprehensively in them in such a way that he could still see the opening of the den if any of the two-leggeds returned. A light sleep overtook him, as he was still tired from the events of the day. 

\---

The wolf woke with a start when he heard the cooing call of the two-leggeds, followed by a light click. The opening to the den opened slowly, and the night-colored two-legged half stepped into the den. The wolf tensed, growling low in warning. Had it come to finish off its prey? 

Instead, the night-colored two-legged placed something on the floor and made strange calls, before stepping out again. The opening closed, and as soon as the two-legged was out of sight the wolf lunged for it, slamming against the opening. A shockwave went through him as he staggered away, the opening was tightly closed again. He let out a whining-howl of displeasure, waiting for any kind of response, before he huffed and turned towards the strange thing that the two-legged had left. 

It looked like water, but it had small bits in it. It smelled delicious, and the wolf took a hesitant sniff. The delicious scent was identifiable somewhat as chicken, and a growl erupted in the wolf’s stomach. He took a tentative sip, bringing his face down to the chicken-water. It was salty and warm, and incredibly delicious. 

The chicken-water was gone in seconds and the wolf licked the white thing that the water had been in. He waited for a beat, wondering if the two-legged would return, before he went back to his temporary bedding. 

He wasn’t quite sure what this meant. Maybe the two-leggeds were playing with him? I thought that they would hunt him, kill him, or even eat him, but now they were giving him strange water. 

The wolf couldn’t quite make sense of it. Two-leggeds were strange creatures, and he was fairly certain that he would never understand them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Finally... the boy has been named. Thank you so much for all the comments on the last chapter :) I'm glad you guys are liking this story.
> 
> As per usual, be sure to comment if you liked this chapter or if you have any questions/theories for next time!
> 
> I'll see you guys again soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> It's not explicitly stated in this fic (as of now) so I just wanted to kinda clarify the living situation of the humans in this fic:  
> Bad, George, and Sapnap live together in a house. They're in a small settlement in a clearing thats in the middle of a taiga forest. Philza, Techno, Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo also live in the same clearing, just in a separate house. They're neighbors, basically.   
> Other characters live somewhat nearby, but they haven't been mentioned at all so far so Im not going to be tagging them unless they actually show up (I don't plan on that, though). 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter : )

“I just dropped some soup off,” Bad said, taking a seat at the dining table. Philza had come over for dinner, mostly to help Bad prepare something for Dream, but had decided to stay for a meal. Sapnap and George sat at the table with Phil, watching Bad approach. 

“How did he react?” Sapnap asked.

  
Bad served himself some stew. “He growled at me, and I heard him hit the door after I left. The room was a mess, too. He bunched all the blankets up in the corner, and he was kinda sitting on that when I came in.” 

Just then, a piercing howl sounded from above them, its noise leaking through the floorboards and dripping into their meal. 

“Well,” Philza said with a forced cheeriness. “At least we have an idea of what animal he thinks he is.” 

“And here I was thinking ‘raised by wolves’ was a figure of speech,” Sapnap sighed. George chuckled a little at his friend's comment. 

“Are we sure that he was taken in by wolves? Do wolves even do that?” George asked. 

“We aren’t completely sure, but I can’t think of any other animal that makes the same noises that Dream does.” Bad rubbed his chin. “He was alone when we found him, though, so I can’t be sure.”

“It’s possible he got separated with his pack, if that’s the case.” Phil said. “He’s been in this area for a few days, so I can only assume that there’s a reason for that.” 

“We don’t really know what that reason is,” Bad sighed. “I’m just hoping that we’ll be able to get him used to us.” 

“He’s only been here for half a day,” Phil said reassuringly. “He’ll warm up to us eventually.”

“We could always employ the use of Stockholm syndrome,” Sapnap said jokingly. George laughed, and Phil chuckled a little as well. 

“That’s not gonna happen. Hopefully we can start off by getting him to associate us with food, and then we can try to start sticking around more so that he knows we’re not going to attack him. Once we get to that point, we can give him a bath and start trying to teach him stuff.” 

Bad nodded. “I’m going to bring him food for the next few days, then maybe we can get someone else to do it. Having him be familiar with all of us is a good idea.” 

“I’m going to the market tomorrow with Wilbur, by the way.” Phil said. “I’ll be picking up some more rice and broth for meals, do you need anything?” 

Sapnap immediately leaned forward, asking for snacks. Bad cried out in indignation, reminding him about the snacks they had in the house still. George laughed at his family’s antics, idly hoping that Dream could one day join their dynamic. 

\----- 

The next few days were much of the same. Bad would wake up and warm up some broth, then he would go upstairs and put it in Dream’s room. This would usually cause Dream to whine for a few hours, sometimes scratching or thumping against the door. He would go quiet after a while, and Sapnap, Bad, and George would be able to go out and do whatever task they needed to do. 

Around sunset, Bad would cook up more broth. He would usually add something into the evening broth- usually rice and a few vegetables- and then wake them up to Dream. This would cause the whining and scratching to return for a few hours, and then the house would be silent. For the most part the nights were quiet, but sometimes Dream would howl in the dead of night and wake up everyone in the house. On those nights, Sapnap George and Bad would meet up in the living room to talk or go outside to stargaze for a bit until Dream quieted down. 

They decided to switch things up after the first three days, and Phil started coming into the house in the mornings and evenings to drop off bowls of soup and rice. 

“We’ll set up a more balanced schedule later so that you guys can bring him food too,” Bad said when Sapnap asked when his turn to bring food to Dream would be. “We don’t want to overwhelm him, so Philza and I will be interacting with him the most for now.” 

“I’m actually going to try to sit with him a bit,” Phil piped up. He had come into the house a few minutes prior to help with the meal preparation. “Hopefully I’ll be able to take back some of the bowls without being attacked.” His tone was joking, but there was a note of apprehension there too.

For the most part they were able to bring back the bowls that they took up to Dream’s room, but sometimes the boy would drag them further into the room or even hide them. Phil and Bad wanted to respect his space, and didn’t go any further than a few feet past the door whenever they went inside the room. 

“You think that’ll go well?” Bad asked, concerned. 

“We’ll see, I guess.” Phil rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s not gonna make any progress if we keep doing the same thing over and over again.” 

“I guess so.” Bad sighed, and then served the broth into a bowl and handed it to Philza. “If you start yelling, I’ll come up and get you.” 

“Thanks, mate.” Phil said, taking the food and heading up towards Dream’s room.

\-----

The two-leggeds came and went through the opening in the den. The wolf had sniffed it, pawed at it, barked at it, and even thrown his body against it in the hope that it would open, but he received no results. It was hard to tell how long he had been trapped in the den, as there was no way for him to see the sky. There was a small, fake sun in the middle of the den’s roof. It went on and off now and again, and the wolf could only assume that it indicated night and day. 

Food wasn’t much of a problem anymore. The two-leggeds came frequently, carrying strange, round things in their paws which held food. Usually the round things were snow-colored and hard, yet smooth like rock, and sometimes they would look like small tree stumps and be made of wood. The chicken-water was usually inside the round things, but recently there had been some odd white pellets inside. At first the wolf had thought that the two-leggeds were adding grubs into the chicken-water, but he had been shocked to find that they had a taste he had never had before. He liked them, though, and their texture was interesting on his tongue. 

He had indulged himself somewhat, and allowed himself to play with some of the strange round things once he ate from. He would skid them across the floor and chase them, if only to give himself something to do. Sitting alone all day in the den made the wolf feel… empty, and tired. He itched to run and hunt in the fields and forests outside, and yet he was stuck in the den with the two-legged creatures who may want to eat him. 

He wasn’t actually too sure about the intentions of the two-leggeds anymore. If they wanted him dead or wanted to eat him, wouldn’t they have done so by now? 

The wolf shook his head and perked up, sitting up from where he had been laying down on his bedding. The two-beat thudding of a two-legged approached him, and the familiar scent of the green one tickled his nose through the door. 

It let out a call, before pushing open the swinging part of the den. The wolf growled softly, mostly out of habit, as the two-legged walked into his den. The round thing was placed on the floor, and the wolf could smell the familiar chicken-water scent wafting off of it. To his surprise, however, the two-legged closed the swinging part of the den behind itself, trapping the two of them in the den together. 

The wolf stared at it for a while, and then sneezed at the two-legged,  _ Stupid _ . It made noises at him in return, stood awkwardly for a few beats, and then took a few steps to the opposite corner of the den from the one the wolf was in. It took a hesitant seat, and then turned its head away from the wolf as if to scan the den with his eyes. 

They sat like that for a while, the two-legged looking aimlessly around the den and the wolf sitting tensely in his corner. Eventually the wolf shifted a little, hunching his shoulder and leaning forward as if to get out of the bedding to see how the two-legged would react. Its eyes flickered over briefly, and then went right back to drifting around the room. The wolf whined a little, dropping his shoulders and tipping his head.  _ Why? What? _ What did the two-leggeds want from him? Why were they keeping him here? And why was this two-legged sitting in his den? They were such strange, strange creatures. 

The two-legged looked at him and made some noises. It sat, staring at the wolf for a few more moments as if waiting for something, and then slowly got up. It went to the swinging part of the den and stepped out, letting out one last call before closing it. The wolf waited for a while longer before creeping over to the food and lapping it up quickly. 

It was odd. For a moment, he was sure he had detected a note of protection and affection in the two-leggeds calls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a bit of a short chapter :( 
> 
> Apologies if there are any typos! I kinda rushed the editing process. Im trying to get back into the schedule of things with this fic (because somehow it got messed up over the weekend lol), so I may have to take a day off to catch up. We'll see!
> 
> As always, be sure to drop a comment if you liked this chapter or have any questions/theories!
> 
> I'll see you guys next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!!
> 
> Ok so funny story, as I was writing this chapter I was called away for dinner and- I shit you not- it was chicken soup with rice in it. I also had chicken for breakfast, and had chicken in my lunch today. I think this fic may be manifesting chicken in my life?? Or maybe I'm discovering my secret chicken powers??? Is anyone else having chicken-related issues in their day-to-day lives? Please let me know

Phil sat in the room again when he brought Dream his dinner, and received essentially the same reaction. Dream didn’t whine or make noises at him the second time, but continued to stare at him. Phil only stayed in the room for about five minutes before leaving. 

“I think you should try the same thing with him tomorrow, Bad. Maybe stay for eight minutes instead of five?” Phil suggested on his way out of the house that night. Bad hummed.   
  
“I’ll try it. Maybe we can start sending George and Sapnap in to bring him food?” Philza nodded in agreement. 

“We can set up some kind of schedule in the morning. Get some sleep, alright?” 

\---

True to his word, the next day Bad stayed in the room with Dream for a little longer than usual. Anxiety welled up in Bad’s chest when he opened the door to the room and stepped in. It was as messy as usual. It looked like, well, like they were keeping a feral wolf in their house. A few bowls from prior days were littered around the room, and as usual the blankets were all scrunched up in one corner. Dream was sitting on them, tension clear in his frame. He was hunched a little, pressed into the corner in such a way that he could see the entire room. 

Bad smiled at him. “Hey, Dream. I brought you some food!” He placed the bowl on the floor. “Chicken soup, your favourite. It’s also the only thing you’ve eaten since you’ve been here, but I added some rice in there so you might like it.” Bad knew that Dream probably couldn’t understand a word he said, but speaking would help the boy get used to the sound of human voices, so he babbled a little whenever he came to see Dream. Phil said that he had stayed quiet, and Bad considered doing the same. 

He pushed the bowl into the room a little more, and then walked to the corner that Philza said he had sat in. He grabbed one of the wooden bowls that had been tossed across the room on his way to the corner. It was upturned, and had clearly skidded across the floor to bump into the corner it now sat in. It had… tooth marks in it. Bad cringed a little, worried for Dream’s dental health. 

Speaking of, Bad looked up at the boy. He was still hunched, staring directly at Bad, and he looked incredibly tensed. Bad didn’t want to disrupt him, or accidentally send him some kind of challenge. The last thing he wanted was for Dream to attack him or lunge at him. He raised his hands slightly, showing that they were empty, and then placed them on his lap. He was sitting cross legged in the corner diagonal from Dream’s bed area. To his surprise, Dream whined slightly, tipping his body slightly to the side. 

“What’s up?” Bad asked, sitting up a little straighter. Dream’s eyes flickered over all of Bad at the motion, letting out a small uncertain growl, and Bad quickly relaxed his shoulders and smiled- without teeth- at Dream. “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dream’s eyes darted around the room and at the bowl of broth that Bad had brought, before returning his gaze to Bad. That small action, paired with the way the boy was sitting...It seemed almost like he was asking a question. “You can eat,” Bad said, gesturing at the bowl. For extra emphasis, he turned his whole head towards Dream and then towards the bowl of soup, then back at Dream. 

For a brief moment, there was understanding in Dream’s eyes. He shifted himself forward out of his mass of blankets slowly, reaching a tentative hand out to press against the floor in front of him. He paused, looking at Bad, who only looked away nonchalantly. He was watching from the corner of his eye. Dream took a few more steps out of the makeshift bed and crept across the room. He moved soundlessly, pausing in between steps to stare at Bad. 

Bad glanced at Dream a few times, making sure to keep his body relaxed. The boy was clearly sensitive to body language and tone, which made sense considering his upbringing. The boy limped slightly, Bad noted with some worry. He could just see a few trails of blood dripping down his arm from under the furs. Whether the wound was from before they found him or from after, Bad wasn’t sure, but he would be sure to bring up the boy’s injury with Phil later.

Dream reached the bowl of soup, and quickly dipped down to lap at it. He positioned himself in such a way that he could see Bad, drink the soup, and run if needed at the same time. Bad could have admired the display if his heart didn’t break at the sight of a small child acting in such a way.

Well, ‘small child’ was a bit subjective. Dream was tiny, but it was unclear what part of that was due to age and what was due to malnutrition. He was certainly a child, most likely no older than George or Sapnap, but he was a little bigger and lankier than Tommy or Tubbo. Bad didn’t want to guesstimate an age before being able to actually clearly see Dream, as his face was still fairly obscured by mud and his own tangled mass of hair. 

Dream polished off the soup quickly, and lifted his head to fully regard the other person in the room. Bad had been observing Dream out of the corner of his eye, and wasn’t quite sure how to proceed from this point. If he got up, there were equal chances that Dream would run or attack. Bad turned his head slightly, so that he was half facing Dream. 

He was lifting his face oddly and for a moment Bad almost laughed at how it looked like Dream was sniffing the air, before he saw the way that Dream was flaring his nostrils slightly and realised that was exactly what he was doing. Bad flicked his eyes to the bowl that had just been empty, if only to look at something other than Dream. He didn’t want to make the boy feel uncomfortable or challenged. 

A light creaking emanated in front of Bad as Dream started walking hesitantly towards him. Bad took a few deep breaths to contain his excitement and apprehension. This was the closest that Dream had ever gotten to any of them (excluding the time they had jumped him in the woods). He looked up when Dream stood about a meter away from him. 

Bad hadn’t really gotten a good look at Dream, not even when he saw the boy in the field. Bad was the kind of person who would get wrapped up in his own head, letting his thoughts overtake him and allowing his body to go on autopilot. He had been doing it- unintentionally, perhaps- every time he got near Dream. Avoiding any conflict or contact in favour of figuring out how he could help the boy better, what materials they needed, what foods to buy. Maybe it was just seeing him so close that brought Bad back to the present moment.

Dream’s eyes were green, and full of curiosity. His face was small, but long. His cheekbones poked out, and his cheeks were slightly sunken. Matted, grimey blonde hair framed his face, and smudges of mud and a few flecks of rice covered his face. Bad wasn’t quite thinking when he reached a hand out. He wasn’t sure if he was reaching out to cup the boy's cheek, or something else, but his hand froze midair the second Dream’s eyes snapped to it. 

He regarded Bad’s hand for a moment, glancing apprehensive between it and Bad’s face, before he slowly learned forward. His nose and mouth rested against Bad’s palm, and he could feel Dream breathing softly against his flesh. It felt intimate, in some strange way. Exploratory, definitely. Under normal circumstances, Bad would have laughed and maybe even gagged at the thought of a mud-encrusted teenager resting their face- which had likely never been washed- against his bare hand, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. 

They stayed like that, Bad sitting with his hand out and Dream resting his face slightly in Bad’s palm. It could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, and Bad’s mind was racing at a million miles per hour yet painfully blank at the same time. The moment broke with the sound of Phil’s voice coming through the door. 

“Bad? You alright?” 

Dream was gone in a flash, reappearing in his bed with fully tensed muscles and bared teeth. Bad sighed, upset at Phil’s absolutely horrible timing. 

“I’m fine! I’m coming out now.” He leaned over and gathered the wooden bowl near him, and picked up the bowl he had brought with him that day. He spared a last glance at Dream- who was still tense in his pile of blankets- and gave him a small smile. “See you later for dinner, Dream.” 

He stepped out, excited to tell Philza everything that had just happened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter! Sorry it's a little short ^_^''
> 
> I did not proof read it at all lmao! I may come back tomorrow and edit it, but it's kinda late and I want to sleep. 
> 
> I am a proud Dadboyhalo and Dadza fan. This will become much clearer as the fic goes on lmao. Also every time I write about Dream's appearance, I can only think about how this boy has not had a proper bath in over 10 years... orz
> 
> Anyway, if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories please be sure to comment! Also comment if there are scenes/interactions you would like to see! I have some scenes planned in my mind, but I have a lot of blanks to fill in here and there so any ideas you have would be helpful :)
> 
> See you guys next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> It seems the chapters have been about 1.5k words lately, which is a little shorter than I'd like. I may take a day off soon to catch up and get back into my original writing schedule. We'll see?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Of the two-leggeds that came into his room, the night-colored one was the most interesting. It spoke in high, excited tones. It’s body language was open, and it always moved around with obvious gestures. It reminded the wolf a little bit of some of the new mothers in the pack, and maybe the familiarity in some of its actions was what led the wolf to trust it so much. 

He hadn’t really intended on touching any of the two-leggeds, or even getting close to them for that matter, but the intense feeling of curiosity had overcome him when the night-colored two-legged had sat in the room with him. It’s paw had been warm, and it had a sort of sweet smell that the wolf couldn’t quite identify. It had been a pleasant surprise when the night-colored two-legged hadn’t attacked him- or even barked or growled at him- at the contact. The voice of the green pelted two-legged had barked from behind the door, and the wolf had bolted, but he had the feeling that it wasn’t because he was making contact with another of its kind. 

The friendly night-colored two-legged had left, and the wolf had huffed and curled up on his bed. There wasn’t much else for him to do during the day, although he did briefly consider skidding some of the round-hard things that held his food around the room. He let out a sigh and curled up tightly, waiting for the friendly two-legged to return with his second meal. 

  
  


\---

He had started noticing something of a pattern with the small sun in the room. It would turn on shortly before the two-leggeds came to give him his first meal, and then it would turn off shortly after they gave him his second meal. It was a little disorienting, but it helped him keep track of the time. If he woke up and the light was still on, it was still daytime. 

The sound of footsteps woke him, and the friendly two-legged stepped into the room with a similar round-hard thing. It placed it on the floor, and then took a seat in the same corner as that morning. The wolf hesitated, but the two-legged hadn’t shown any indication of attacking yet, so he decided to extend a bit of trust crept to the bowl. He ate the chicken-water quickly, keeping a wary eye on the two-legged, because although he may be friendly there was no telling whether he would change quickly. The tall-dark creatures would always bristle and attack whenever the wolf looked at them for too long, and who was to say if two-leggeds acted under the same principals. 

His worries were quelled, somewhat, when the friendly two-legged reached a paw out after the wolf finished eating. He took a few steps towards the outstretched paw, but paused before he could touch the two-legged. He didn’t feel as desperate for answers or affection as he had that morning, and was still worried that the green two-legged would bark at him through the door. He let out a huff of  _ sorry _ , and quickly returned to his bedding. The friendly two-legged stayed for a little more time, cooing at him, before taking the hard-round thing and leaving the den. 

The small-sun went out shortly after, and the wolf fell back to sleep. 

\---

The next few days of meals were different. The day after, the friendly two-legged returned, but he had the sky-pelted two-legged with him this time. It’s eyes were small this time, which confused the wolf. Did it somehow make its eyes bigger in the forest to avoid danger? Or was it to attract prey? Maybe just to see better? The wolf couldn’t figure it out.

They sat together in the corner for a bit, but left shortly after. The wolf didn’t move from his bedding until they were gone. The same thing happened later, but with the snow-pelted two-legged instead of the sky-colored one. After the snow-colored one was the red one, and then a new two-legged he had never seen before. He stayed in the corner whenever he saw a two-legged that wasn’t the friendly one alone, lifting his lips if they got too close or stayed too long. 

The new cycle of new two-leggeds was disrupted sometimes by either only the green one or only the friendly one coming in to feed him. None of the other two-leggeds came in alone, and the wolf couldn’t help but wonder why. They weren’t smaller than the green or friendly two-leggeds, but they were clearly younger. They were somewhat similar to the pups in the pack in the way that they acted- always looking up to the elders, checking their actions, waiting for permission- which led the wolf to the conclusion that the green and friendly ones were equivalent to the leaders of the two-leggeds. The wolf wasn’t quite sure what to do with this revelation. In fact, it seemed to raise more questions than answers.

Constant curiosity and confusion mixed with the absolute nothingness of the den were not a good combination for the wolf. He could only play around with the few hard-round things for so long before it became repetitive. The only thing he really could do was think, mostly about the den and the two-leggeds. He tried not to think about his pack, or how much he missed his mother, but it seemed his mind had different ideas.

Sleep-images weren’t incredibly uncommon to the wolf, and apparently it was something the other wolves in the pack experienced too, but sometimes they felt too real for the wolf. He had always been plagued with bad images- things like burning trees or hungry cold-white seasons- but now they seemed worse than ever. The actual subjects of the images weren’t bad, but the scenes he saw of his pack and his mother made his chest hurt and his eyes burn. 

He had a bad sleep-images one night, seeing his mother and his pack leave him, and when he bolted awake the small sun in the den was off. Before he could stop himself, a keening wail erupted from his throat. The burning in his eyes increased until water was running down his cheeks. It was something the wolf hated since it didn’t happen to any of the other pack members. He couldn’t stop it though, and the keening wails bubbled from his aching chest. 

The sounds coming from him were so loud, and he struggled to keep them under control before he attracted a predator or one of the two-leggeds. He realised that he failed, however, when the small sun suddenly flickered on. 

\-----

Dream had been settling in pretty decently. He had come to Bad that one time, but after that had not come in contact at all. Bad and Philza had set up something of a rotation to get everyone- sans Tommy and Tubbo- to see Dream at least once, but Dream didn’t show any interest in anyone. Even when Bad went in alone, Dream would only ever eat in front of him and refused to come to his outstretched hand. Over the next week, Dream had officially met (almost) everyone who lived in the area. It was understandable, he guessed. The boy probably had no idea what they wanted from him, and was probably missing his wolf family. 

This became pretty clear to Bad when he heard Dream crying in the middle of the night. Bad had been up late to clean up the living room, as George and Sapnap had a bit of a small food fight. The wailing had started suddenly, and echoed throughout the house. Bad winced, hoping that it didn’t wake Sapnap and George, and quickly put his cleaning supplies down and made his way to Dream’s room. He hesitated outside, unsure if going in would help, before flicking the lights on and stepping inside. Feral or not, he wasn’t about to leave a crying teenager alone in the middle of the night. 

He was curled up a few feet from his corner, the sheets that were usually crumpled in the corner were strewn out across the room as if Dream had pulled them out as he scrambled away. A nightmare, then? Bad quickly knelt down. 

“Hey, Dream. Can you hear me?” He asked, his voice low and calm. Dream perked up, looking at him with fearful and teary eyes. Bad smiled back. “You alright there, buddy?” He reached a hand out experimentally, offering comfort, and was shocked when Dream stumbled towards him. 

Dream’s head pressed against Bad’s chest, and the man wasn’t quite sure what to do. He could feel wet spots in his shirt and Dream’s tears leaked onto his shirt, but at least the boy was quieting down. Bad gently put his hand on Dream’s head, allowing his fingers to pet the boy’s head and tangle a little into his stringy hair. Up close, the boy smelled really bad. Bad winced at the smell, and then shook his head a little. He could handle the stench of skeletons and zombies, so he could certainly take the smell of an unwashed teen. 

The two of them sat quietly for a while, Dream’s sobs slowing into deep breaths as the teen fell asleep clinging to Bad’s chest. Bad sighed when he realised that Dream was fully asleep, and gently picked him up and deposited the boy on the bed. He picked up some of the blankets on the ground, shook them out, and then tucked the boy in, bunching the spare blankets and sheets around him to make him extra comfortable. 

He almost felt bad, leaving him alone in the room, but Bad had to clean up the kitchen before any pests entered the house, so he stepped out of the room and flicked off the light to let Dream sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> I promised Dadboyhalo and Dadza, and I am thoroughly delivering on the Dadboyhalo. Dad friends for the win!  
> I worry Im taking things a bit too fast, though, but I also feel like the plot is going so slow?? Pacing is hard :/
> 
> As per usual, if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories/scenes you want to see, please let me know in the comments!
> 
> See you guys next time!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone!
> 
> I think I'll take a break from updating tomorrow so that I can catch up and pre-write a few chapters. Lately the chapters have been about 1.5k words, which is a decent length, but I'd like to be able to write longer chapters. 
> 
> Other than that, I wanted to thank you guys for 5k+ hits and 490+ kudos??? This fic has over 200 subs and I'm not really sure how to handle that information... wtf... 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

It has been about a week since Bad had hugged Dream in the middle of the night. Dream had officially been in the guest room for about three weeks at that point, and the humans were feeling optimistic about his progress. After the breakthrough with Bad, Dream had become somewhat friendlier with the others. He was still wary, and refused to get close enough to touch them, and mostly stuck to his own corner of the room. 

Still, he was far more comfortable with the younger members of the households, and accepted food in front of them without issue. Sometimes he would even eat in the same room as them, which was something he had previously only done with Bad. It was clear that Bad was the human he trusted the most, with Philza being a close second, which wasn’t much of a shock to anyone. 

Dream was still wary of being touched, but seemed much more open to the idea. He would get close to Philza and Bad whenever they were in the room, and sometimes even sat next to them after finishing his meals. The two adults started going into the room together for breakfasts and dinners to keep the boy company (and to get him used to more people), and would regularly eat together. 

Bad had brought up possible distractions for Dream, expressing concern at the way the boy was playing and biting his soup bowls, and he and Phil had gone through Techno and Wilbur’s old toys to bring to Dream. The two of them had settled on a simple block puzzle and a small stuffed bee (which had been donated by Tubbo). Bad sat in the room with Dream, Philza in the corner near the door, and showed Dream how to place the blocks in properly. Dream picked the blocks up with his teeth instead, shaking his head and tossing the blocks around the room and then chasing after them. 

“We could probably teach him fetch,” Philza said, chucking a little and watching the boy race around the room. Bad’s face pinched in a way similar to that of someone who had just licked a lemon, which only caused Philza to laugh harder. 

The bee plushie had a little more success, although the boy did shake it around in his teeth and tear off its wings. Bad had tried to grab it from Dream’s mouth, accidentally engaging in a short game of tug-of-war, before he showed the boy how to cuddle with the toy. He didn’t fully understand, but he tried his best to copy Bad’s actions of hugging the bee. Philza laughed at Bad’s exasperated expression, and promised that they would come back and try again later. 

Philza and Bad decided that it would be safe enough to allow the kids- minus Tommy and Tubbo- to go in and visit Dream whenever they wanted, as long as Phil or Bad accompanied them. Tommy had thrown a bit of a tantrum and Tubbo had pouted at the ban, but balefully agreed when Phil carefully explained that he didn’t want them to scare Dream. 

George and Sapnap became a bit closer to Dream as well, and the three of them- plus Bad- would spend a lot of time in the room together. Most afternoons were spent with Bad, George, and Sapnap playing some kind of card game while Dream looked at them with interest from his corner of the room. Occasionally he would sit in on their game, trying to figure out what they were doing, and had tried to steal their cards more than once. 

He seemed more keen on exploring the room a bit more, too. He had obviously memorized every corner, but he seemed more comfortable roaming around in it, and Bad had come in one evening to see Dream sitting on the mattress instead of in his usual mess of blankets. 

\---

“Maybe we could start trying to teach him some things?” Bad mused one night at dinner. He, George, Sapnap, and Philza were sitting in Dream’s room with their own foods. Dream had polished off his dinner a while ago and now sat a few meters away from Bad, staring at his food. A bad habit that the boy had started developing, staring at others while they ate. It was unclear if he was begging or trying to figure out what they were eating. Bad made a small mental note to try to move onto solid foods for Dream, as the boy was starting to fill out. His cheekbones, wrists, and knees protrude less, and his cheeks seemed much rounder than when he had first come to the house. 

Phil hummed thoughtfully. “We could try. If we could teach him our names and a few basic words, we could try to get him outside this room.” 

“Would you finally give him a bath?” Sapnap asked. Bad laughed.

“Yeah, that would be a good place to start. The bathroom is only down the hall from this room, so a small change in scenery would be good.”

“He may even be familiar with the concept of a bath,” Philza mused. “He may have rolled around in rivers in the past or something. It’s something I’ve seen wolves do.” 

“How would you even start teaching him words?” George asked, curiously. 

Bad opened his mouth to answer, but faltered. “That's… a good question.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I guess teaching him what ‘food’ means might be pretty easy, same with ‘breakfast’ and ‘dinner.’ I’m not sure if he would understand the concept of names very easily, but he might figure that out if we work at it. We have to use tone and body language very carefully around him, but I’m not really sure how we would use that to teach him more neutral words.” Bad sighed. “It’s going to be tough, no matter what we do.”

“I would suggest bringing down some of Techno’s old picture books, but I think reading is beyond him at the moment.” Phil grimaced a little, placing his empty plate on the floor. “Teaching him words isn’t the only issue, either. We’re gonna have to teach him how to stand and walk properly, which might be something he’s never even done before.” Phil pointed subtly at Dream, who was still looking at Bad. “See his hands? He’s been doing that with his fingers almost naturally, which is a bit worrying.”

Dream’s fingers seemed to always be curled in at the first knuckle, probably something he did to protect his delicate fingertips while running four-legged across harsh terrain. Unfortunately, doing so for an extended amount of time may have damaged his fingers and knuckles. It was unclear what the extent of the damage was- if any- but it was something that would certainly need to be corrected. Bad had seen Dream extend his fingers to pick things up, bowls and some of his blocks, but he had never seen the boy stretch them out completely straight. He wasn’t quite sure if the boy was even able to. 

Bad nodded, worried. “Some of his dirt is rubbing off, too. He’s hurt in a few places, or at least somewhat scarred. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had more untreated injuries under his furs that we can’t see, so when we bathe him we’ll need to have a med kit ready.”

Sapnap finished off his meal and put his plate on the floor with a clank, causing Dream to briefly glance in his direction. “Just count me out when you do bathe him. I bet he could fit onto some of George’s old clothes.” 

George nodded. “I wouldn’t mind giving him some of mine. We might have to clean them though, since they’re a bit dusty.” Philza smiled and reached over to ruffle George’s hair. 

“That’ll be a huge help. I’ll wash them up in the morning. Bad, you can try to teach Dream a few words in the next few days, and then hopefully we can finally give this boy a bath.” 

Bad chuckled. “I’ll make note of it. Hopefully he’s a fast learner!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter!! It wasn't a very long one and the ending was a bit abrupt, sorry about that ;-;
> 
> Not much to say here :P I'm glad you guys are liking the fic! 
> 
> Be sure to comment if you liked the chapter, have any questions/theories, or have any scenes you want to see!
> 
> See you guys next time!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> Me: I'm gonna take a day off to write some chapters in advance  
> Me: *Doesn't do that and writes this chapter like normal*
> 
> Having a day off was nice though :) I'll try to update normally from here on out, but don't be surprised if I take a day off now and then!  
> As an apology, please take this highly anticipated chapter:

Dream was, in fact, a pretty average learner. There were some things he picked up quite quickly, like what bread and vegetables were, and there were some things that took much longer, like how to eat from his hands or drink water from a cup. Both were lessons that Bad and Philza tried teaching Dream over the next few days. 

Bad also tried teaching Dream a few words, with varying results. The boy picked up on the word ‘food’ pretty quickly. Bad’s strategy had been pointing to the soup he gave the boy and repeating the word over and over until the boy either repeated it or pointed at the food, and then he would allow the boy to eat. By the end of the second day, Dream would say something along the lines of ‘F’uuuddd’ every time Bad pointed at a bowl of food, and even though the word was pretty butchered and heavily slurred, it was still recognisable. Bad would shower him in praise and compliments every time he said it, making sure to give positive reinforcement. 

Teaching Dream how to eat solid foods with his hands and drink water from a cup had been a bit more challenging. Bad and Philza would tear bits of bread off and hand them to Dream, gently taking his hand and curling it around the chunks and guiding it to his mouth. He seemed to understand, but would revert to bringing his face down to the food whenever he got frustrated or bored. With the water glass, Bad would bring an extra (empty) glass with him whenever he gave Dream his meals, and would demonstrate how to drink from it in front of the boy. He picked up on that a little bit faster, clearing assuming that it was some kind of game. Bad always used an upbeat, positive tone when teaching Dream new actions or words, and made sure to use positive words and keep a lax body position around him. 

Name had been much tricker, as expected. It took a lot longer for Dream to pick up on it, and Bad had to come in multiple times throughout the days to get him to finally repeat Bad’s name. Like the word ‘food,’ ‘Bad’ was slurred and warped coming out of the teen’s mouth, sounding something like “‘aad” and more like a whine than a word. As expected, Dream clearly thought that “‘aad’ was the word for all humans, and it took a few days more for him to understand that Philza was not “‘aad” as well, but instead “Pheeel.” Lip sounds were clearly going to be the toughest, as Dream’s wolf noises were mainly throat based. At least he was starting to understand that each human had their own individual name. They tried to introduce George and Sapnap, but Dream seemed frustrated whenever they tried and refused to repeat anything back, so they decided to give him a few days rest.

Another thing Bad had started noticing was that Dream had a personality. He was somewhat shocked with himself when he realised that the boy was, well, somewhat humorous. He would play around, pulling his own version of pranks or jokes with Bad or Philza. He was sensitive to emotion too, and would echo back whatever the human in the room would feel. It wasn’t that Bad expected Dream not to have a personality, but it was that he hadn’t fully considered it. He realised that in his mind, he had been seeing Dream as not quite human and not quite wolf, but as a mix of both. So focused on the teen’s behaviours and health that he had overlooked the actual person he could be and was. 

\---

The day had started out pretty normally; Bad had fed Dream and was preparing some activities and puzzles to give the teen for later in the afternoon, George was reading on the couch, and Sapnap was fiddling around at the crafting bench in the corner of the living room. The peace was disrupted when Philza burst into the house, a box under his arm and a serious expression on his face. Philza coming into their house uninvited had become something of a regular occurrence over the past month, but the box and his expression were new. Bad immediately put down the puzzle he had been cleaning and looked at Phil to ask what was wrong. Before he could speak, however, Philza turned to him and spoke up. 

“Today is bath day.” Bad’s mouth shaped into an ‘o’ of understanding, and George sat up and closed his book quickly.    
  


“Dream’s getting a bath?”

“Fucking finally!” Sapnap cheered from his corner of the room.

“Language!” Bad snapped lightheartedly, and then turned to Phil. “Are you sure he’s ready?”

“He may as well be.” Phil put the box down on the dining room table, and Bad made his way over to look inside. George and Sapnap hovered nearby as well. “I brought the medkit, some of Wilbur’s old clothes that he said would be alright to donate, towels, some brushes and a lot of soap.”

Bad hummed. “I have some scissors too. I doubt we’ll be able to save all of Dream’s hair.” Phil grimaced and nodded in agreement, recalling the rats nest that could barely be considered ‘hair.’ 

“I can start filling the tub if you want to go get him ready? I’ll set up in the bathroom too. You might want to bring some snacks and toys so he has something to focus on.” Phil picked the box up again. “George, Sap, you two can be on standby. Don’t worry, we won’t make you do any work unless we really need it.”

Sapnap let out a mock sigh of relief, and George just nodded. They both made their way back to their previous tasks, but looked a lot less interested in them then they had been before. Phil nodded at Bad and then made his way upstairs towards the bathroom. Bad quickly went around the kitchen gathering a few snacks and grabbing the building blocks he had been wiping down, as well as a pair of scissors and followed Philza upstairs. He dropped the scissors off with Philza, not wanting to scare Dream with a sharp object, and quickly entered his room.

“Hey, Dream.” Bad cooed. The teen was sitting on his blanket pile, fiddling with his bee plush. He had been using his hands when playing a lot more, which Bad encouraged and was glad for. He looked up upon the greeting, his face lighting up. 

“‘Aaad!” He whined happily, dropping the bee and trotting over. Bad knelt down, reaching out a hand in greeting. Dream would always touch himself to Bad’s hand whenever he came in- usually touching his nose or hand to Bad’s outstretched hand- whenever the man came into the room. It was a small greeting, but it had been such a huge step, and Bad was immensely proud. 

“We’re gonna do something today, ok? You get to leave the room!” Dream didn’t understand, but Bad’s excited tone got the point across that  _ something _ was going to happen. Bad handed Dream some of the blocks he had, and the boy immediately picked them up with his hand and brought them to his mouth. That had been somewhat of a negative side effect of teaching the boy how to eat with his hands: he now used his hands to bring everything to his mouth, clearly finding it much more fun than leaning down to pick it up from the floor with his mouth. Bad gently pulled his hand away from his mouth. 

“No, only for food, remember?” He chided gently. 

Dream whined in disappointment, but compiled without any resistance. “F’uuuddd,” he agreed, leaning over and nosing the bag of treats that Bad had brought with him. It was a small bag of sweet berries he had gone out and collected the day before. Bad laughed and shifted the bag away from the boy.

  
“Yes, but those are for later, ok? We have to go have a bath first.” Dream looked at him. He had started to learn to look at whoever was speaking whenever they spoke, which was good, even if he didn’t really understand them. Bad smiled and then got up to go to the door. Dream immediately turned away, about to return to his bed, when Bad called out. “Dream, c’mon buddy! You’re going out too.” He opened the door for the boy, gesturing out. 

Dream stared at the now open door, clearly not understanding. He had been in the room for weeks, at this point, so it was only fair. Bad leaned over, offering his hand, and Dream hesitantly shuffled over and took it. It was slow, but Bad slowly led Dream outside of the room; Bad crouched over with Dream’s hand in one hand and the box of toys and treats in the other, and Dream walking in a strange three-legged shuffle. He pulled a little on Bad’s hand, craning to look at everything and smell what he could. Bad pulled his hand gently, guiding him into the bathroom. 

When Dream saw Philza’s familiar face, he let go of Bad’s hand and shuffled over to give Philza the same greeting he gave Bad. 

“Hey there, mate.” Philza said. He was sitting on the edge of the bath, regulating the water temperature and height. He had laid an old sheet across the bathroom floor and had but the box of supplies next to him, out of reach of Dream. 

“Pheeel!” Dream warbled excitedly, and Phil laughed. 

“He really liked our names, doesn’t he?” Phil said looking over at Bad, who was closing the bathroom door and putting down his own box of supplies. 

“I bet he’s doing it so we give him more attention,” Bad said good-naturedly. “Do you have any plan on getting him into the water?”

“Well, I was thinking we could try to lift him in. If he struggles to get out we can take him out, but I don’t know of any other way. Once we get water on him we can take these furs off of him too.” Bad nodded. 

He turned to Dream, who was playing a bit with the floor-sheet, and hummed a little to get the boy’s attention. “Dream, look!” He reached a hand into the water and splashed it a little. Dream immediately shuffled over, clearly only now noticing the pool of water in front of him.

He immediately put his hands on the rim of the tub and pulled himself over to reach his face down and drink, but was stopped when Philza shot out a hand. 

“Woah there, mate! If you want water, drink from this.” He quickly reached over and grabbed a cup from the sink and filled it with water before handing it to Dream. The boy didn’t understand the difference, but drank from the cup all the same. He brought his attention back to the tub once he finished the glass, placing it gently on the ground and reaching a hand into the water. 

“How do you like the temperature?” Bad asked, if only to fill the silence. “It’s pretty nice, I think. Wanna go in?” He reached his own hand into the water, swishing it around a bit. Dream copied his action, and the water immediately started turning a bit murky even from the small motion. 

“Let me try something,” Bad said standing up quickly. He rolled his pant legs up to his knees and stepped into the water, sitting on the opposite side rim of the tub. Dream watched him with interest, and Bad smiled at him and patted the water.

Dream didn’t really need any goading and immediately started trying to get into the tub to follow Bad. Phil leaned over and quickly helped the boy in, picking him up around the middle and lowering him into the water. 

“How’d you know that would work?” Phil asked as Dream sat in the water. He looked a little uncomfortable, but not overly so. Bad shrugged. 

“We found him by a river, so I assumed he wouldn’t be too unfamiliar with water. He seems to copy us when he’s learning, and this is pretty much the same principal!” 

Phil nodded, opening his mouth to say something, but was cut off when Dream let out a whine. He was looking between them, clearly curious about what they were doing. Phil and Bad shared a look, and then Phil leaned over and grabbed a bar of soap and small cloth. 

“Alright, Dream. You ready?” The boy looked over at Phil, curious about the objects. He leaned over to sniff them, wrinkling his nose at the strong smell of the soap. Bad giggled a little at his reaction. 

The process of actually bathing Dream was less of a bath and more of Philza rubbing down the boy’s visible skin with a soapy cloth, which was nearly black with dirt by the time he was done. The water was a cloudy brown as well, and Bad had started pouring extra water into a bucket to dunk over the boy’s head and back. He disliked that, growling harshly when the water ran down his face and left tracks of running mud. 

“Sorry,” Bad winced. He gently rubbed the boy's face with a wet cloth, rubbing the excess grime off. The ends of the fur pelts were starting to float off in the water, and some chunks had even come off completely now that the clumps of clay that held them to the boy’s skin were disintegrating. Phil pulled them out of the water and put them in a spare bucket as they came off, and started gently pulling bits off the boy’s back. They rubbed down his skin wherever the pets came off, laughing a little at his interesting tan lines and grimacing at his scars. 

He was littered in small scars, most of which clearly cuts that had healed wrong. There was one wound that worried them, though. On his right shoulder was a scabbed-over wound that looked suspiciously like bite marks. 

“This isn’t from us,” Phil confirmed hovering his hand over the wound. He gently wiped it, being extra careful when Dream craned his neck to see what Phil was doing and lifting a lip when he saw the man cleaning around the wound. The man pulled away, grabbing some ointment, and gently treated the wound, which was responded to with a growl by Dream. Bad quickly drew the boy’s attention away by waving a bar of soap in front of his face, showing him how he rubbed it into the cloth and cleaned Dream’s hands. 

Eventually the pelt was fully off, and Phil was glad to see that the bite on the boy’s shoulder was the only open wound he had. He could still count the boy’s ribs, now that he could see them, but a month’s worth of stable meals was starting to show. Phil and Bad gave the boy a final rubdown, wiping away any leftover bits of clay that clung to his skin. The boy was far from completely clean, but it was a good start. The water was getting colder the longer the boy sat there, and the lack of his pelt was clearly starting to agitate him. Phil picked him up again, muttering an apology at the boy’s yelp of shock, and deposited him on the sheet and quickly wrapped him in a thick blanket. Bad made his way back to the same side of the tub and helped the boy dry himself, laughing a little bit at the sight of the small body bundled in the blanket. 

“Hand me a brush, would you?” He asked Philza, gratefully taking the comb that the man gave him. It was a futile effort in the end, unfortunately. The comb got stuck only a few inches into the hair, and Dream whined a bit at the tangle that he caught. Bad grimaced and looked at Philza, who handed him the scissors without even needing to be asked. 

Bad cut Dream’s hair quickly, making sure he could get the matted clump off the boy’s head fast as possible. He didn’t want the boy to start wiggling around and accidentally get hurt, so style would have to be a priority for later. The hair fell in clumps as Bad chopped it off, falling into a small pile of gross, matted locks on the sheet. 

Philza emptied the tub water as Bad cut Dream’s hair, and grimaced at the leftover clumps and smudges of dirt that covered the sides of the tub. “We’re gonna have to come back here and wash this bathroom,” he sighed. 

Bad laughed. “That won’t be too big an issue! I could try to get George or Sapnap to do it.” Dream whined a little at the interaction, turning around to try and see what they were doing. Bad gently gripped his head and made sure he kept in place, picking up the pace and cutting off the last few clumps of long hair. “And done!” 

Dream looked a lot more… normal. He looked like an average boy, a little on the skinny side, but at first glance you wouldn’t think that he was a feral child literally raised by wolves. His hair framed his face well now, curling a little around his cheeks. It stopped a little bit below the base of his neck, a little longer in the front and shorter in the back, and generally a bit patchy. Bad grimaced. 

“Sorry about the botched hair job, we can come back and fix it later.” Phil nodded. 

“Don’t worry about it too much. Is he dry?”

Bad nodded, but gave the boy another rub down just to be safe. Phil let out a sigh, and then reached into the box and pulled out some clothes. 

“Now for the hard part.” 

Getting underwear onto the boy wasn't hard. Getting him to keep them on, however, was. They helped him put them on, and then in the few seconds it took to grab the pair of shorts they picked out for him, he would somehow have them off again. Bad ended up being forced to grab the boy’s hands and hold them as Phil put the shorts on over the underwear. 

“We might need to invest in a belt,” Phil grumbled as the boy whined in Bad’s grasp. The pants had a drawstring, which Phil tied so that the boy couldn’t slip out of his pants so easily. His shirt came much easier, as it was in a similar placement to the pelt. Phil had brought multiple shirts with him, but put Dream in a tank top so that he would be able to access the wound on the boy’s shoulder to clean it when necessary. 

When that was done, Bad took Dream’s hand again and led the boy back to his room, where he immediately went to his bed and curled up. It hadn’t been an extremely strenuous journey, but it had tired out the boy immensely. 

Bad and Philza felt exhausted too, but felt a glow of pride and happiness in their chests. Dream was starting to come around, if only in appearance, and they couldn’t be happier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, boy is clean. 
> 
> This chapter is literally 3k words and might even be the longest chapter of the fic and its about Dream having a fucking bath... I need to go touch grass /lh
> 
> It was pretty fun to write though : ) I am struggling a bit with where to take this fic from here on out, so if you have any ideas or scenes you would like to see please let me know!
> 
> As usual, if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories, let me know in the comments! I try to reply to all of them!
> 
> See you guys next time <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> This chapter is really short, and I apologise for that! I spent most of the day planning and outlining this fic, and the good news is that I now have a rough outline/ending planned! The way things are looking, there will be about 28 chapters. This might change, we'll see. Is it a good ending? Who knows! I am my own beta, and half the time I slack off on the job. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

The two-leggeds were stranger than the wolf had originally thought. He was learning some of the things that they taught, similar to how he had learned things from the pack, like how to eat and drink. It wasn’t very practical, the way that they used their paws to bring food and water up to their mouths, but he humored them. It gave him something to do, and he enjoyed the approval they gave whenever he copied them. 

They taught him sounds too, and he began to understand that each two-legged had an assigned sound. It seemed a lot of things had assigned sounds, which was strange to the wolf, and it sounded very hard to learn. He was managing, though, and he learned that the friendly two-legged was “Bad” and the green one was “Phil.” Strange words to be sure, but they fit. He was fairly sure the other two-legged had words too, but he didn’t have the energy to learn them the last time they had come into his den. 

Since then, the Phil and the Bad had taken him out of the den. That had been a shock, and the wolf honestly hadn’t been sure what was outside. Apparently the den he had been in was actually a smaller den inside of a larger one. It reminded him a bit of a cave system he had visited when he was much younger, with small pockets branching off from the main cave. They had taken him to a separate room and put him in water to rub his pelts off him. He didn’t like it, and he definitely didn’t like the replacement pelts they put on him, but they sounded upset and disappointed whenever he tried to take them off so he left them be. 

After that initial dunk in the warm water, they had started taking him back to that specific den every now and then, and he eventually learned that the sound associated with that experience was “bath.” He didn’t specifically dislike the experience, as it reminded him of the times he would swim or wade through rivers, but he would rather stay away from the water. His shoulder felt better, though. The Phil had put something on it, and it had hurt, but now it didn’t ache. He tried to lick it, now able to access his skin in the absence of his pelts, but would always be stopped by either the Phil or the Bad. 

Losing his pelts had been a shock, but the two-leggeds had been kind enough to replace them. His mother always replaced his pelts whenever old ones fell off, so this was somewhat similar to that experience. These pelts covered him better, but somehow were lighter. It was warm inside the den though, so he didn’t mind too much.

The Bad started bringing different foods- that was another sound he knew how to make for the two-leggeds- and he started learning that there were different kinds. The ones that came in the mornings were called “breakfast” and the ones that came closer to night were called “dinner.” The ‘breakfast’ was usually a kind of egg, but it was different from what the wolf was used to. It was yellow, and tasted like egg, but he couldn’t find the shell or the clear part anywhere. The ‘dinner’ was usually a sort of meat or water like he was used to, but it was always delicious. He couldn’t remember ever having eaten this much or this well, and although he was enjoying it, he couldn’t help but worry when the food would start to slow down. 

He was aware that when he had been brought into the den it had been the warm-sunny season, but it was starting to grow colder into the orange-rainy season and eventually the cold-white season. He couldn’t quite tell the time inside the den, as he couldn’t see any trees or plants, but he could feel it in the air and in his bones. The shifting of the season felt like ripples in the air, a small scent here, or a little creak there. It was something his mother taught him to detect, and it was his way of telling what was going on. He could sense it on the pelts of the two-leggeds too, and in the way that they stayed closer to each other and huddled with him in his den to conserve warmth. 

The Bad had brought him extra pelts for his bedding, to keep it warm, which he appreciated. 

\-----

After the initial bath, Dream had been doing well. He was using more words, and they taught him how to say ‘bath,’ even if the boy did repeat the worth as “Ba’thhh” making it sound barely recognisable. Pronunciation was a worry for another time, though, and Bad was more focused on the boy understanding the basic words. 

Toilet training had been a bit of a nightmare, and Bad didn’t want to recall it. The bottom line was that it had taken about a week to be successful, and ‘toilet’ (“t’lett”) had now been added to Dream’s vocabulary. 

The transition to solid food had also been successful, and Dream easily learned the words ‘breakfast’ (“brrrk’ast”) and ‘dinner’ (“d’nr”). He used his new words with toys, shouting them at whoever was in the room with him. He seemed to understand what they meant and when to use them, but he also seemed to enjoy seeing their reactions whenever he used them. 

Bad had to admit, though, that it was hilarious seeing George be chased around the room by Dream as he shouted “t’lett!!!” 

He and Phil had a heart to heart about how educating Dream would go, and they came up with a small itinerary of things they needed to teach him. It mainly consisted of words, sounds, and motor skills. Phil was going to go on a trip to the nearest city in a search for supplies before Winter set in, and agreed to pick up any kids toys or tools during his trip. Bad had made a small list of things and words to teach, and had asked Techno and Wilbur to help him in making flash cards and such. 

George and Sapnap were important parts of Bad’s new teaching plan as well, as they would be there to help Dream get better around people who weren’t Bad or Phil. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> Highkey I... hate this chapter. I'm really disappointed with how it came out, but at least its something? Idk
> 
> Anyway if you liked this chapter or have any questions/theories/etc, be sure to comment :) I try to reply to all of them!
> 
> Thank you and see you next time


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw welcome back everyone!
> 
> Did you know there are (as of this chapter) 277+ people subscribed to this story? That's crazy!! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this! 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter :)

When George saw the strange kid in the woods, he honestly wasn’t quite sure what the end result would be after he told Bad. He didn’t think it would be an extended search-and-rescue mission led by Techno, and he certainly didn’t think it would turn into some kind of weird adoption/re-socialisation experiment. 

The biggest shocker was probably when their efforts actually started working, and Dream started responding to them. He used words now, and although they were warped and slurred coming out of his mouth, Bad had been working with him on proper pronunciation. The bath had been successful, and Dream was no longer caked in mud. His hair had been cut, and although it was a bit choppy, it was leagues better than the complete mess it had been before. Paired with his new change of clothes, Dream looked like a normal person when he was sitting still. 

He still couldn’t walk on two legs though, and would still shuffle around on all fours or on his knees. Bad clearly had a plan to get him to start walking around, but he was waiting for Philza to return from his trip to the city to do anything new. Or so George had thought. 

Bad approached him the afternoon about a day after Philza left. George had been relaxing in the clearing, near the entrance to his, Bad’s, and Sapnap’s (and now Dream’s) house.

“George! Do you think you could go to Dream’s room and play with him for a bit?” 

“Alright…” George said hesitantly. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do during the day, but this was the first time that Bad had offered to let anyone go into Dream’s room without Philza or Bad himself being there to supervise. Almost as if reading George’s mind, Bad’s expression softened a bit.

“I know it’s a bit sudden, and you’ve never been in there alone, but I think Dream needs to be a little less dependant on me and Phil. Plus, I’m taking Sapnap out to get some resources so I’ll be busy all day. Techno is working in the farm, and Wilbur has to watch over Tommy and Tubbo, so you’re really the only person I could ask.” Bad paused, and then chuckled a bit. “It’s a bit fitting though, since you’re the one who saw him first.”

“Do you think he’ll recognise me?” George asked, smiling. 

Bad grinned in return. “Only one way to find out! There are some toys in a box by the stairs, just pick what you think is best. I’ll be back in time to make dinner, but if anything bad happens you know where Techno is.” 

George nodded, and Bad ruffled his hair before heading to the edge of the woods where Sapnap was waiting. The two waved at George, who reciprocated, before disappearing into the trees. 

Heaving a sigh, George turned and headed back into the house, making sure to close the door behind him. The box of toys that Bad had mentioned had been placed there recently by Phil, and had slowly been filled up by just about everyone in the little hamlet they were making. It contained things like building blocks, a few plushies, some small puzzle toys, a few squeaky and noise-making toys, and a few motion toys. George grabbed some blocks, a plushie, and a five-piece puzzle for Dream as well as a book for himself and made his way upstairs. 

Knocking on Dream’s door was customary, even if the boy could probably hear them coming down the hallway. George stepped in, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Dream. He was laying on his blanket pile, curled up in a strange dog-like way and staring at the door. His hair was a little mussed up, so George assumed he had woken the boy up.

“Hey, Dream. Sorry for waking you. I brought some toys, if you wanna play.” George muttered the short greeting, taking a seat in the middle of the room near the door. Dream visibly perked up at the words ‘toy’ and ‘play,’ as those were some of the newest words to be added to his vocabulary. 

George placed the blocks and other toys out on the ground in front of him, watching as Dream carefully stretched and shuffled over to investigate. George shuffled back until his back his the wall and pulled his book out. He knew Bad would probably be a bit upset if he knew he wasn’t actually engaging with Dream, but George was a bit of an antisocial person by default and interacting with a person who didn’t even know they were human was way too out of his league. 

Dream didn’t seem to mind all that much that George wasn’t engaging, and plopped himself down in front of the blocks. He muttered a little under his breath, mostly whines or little growls, but George caught a few “p’ay”s and “‘oy”s in there. Dream was a very vocal person, and George could tell that he would be something of a motor mouth once he was able to properly speak, if that time ever came. The boy fiddles with the blocks, stacking them and knocking them down, before moving on to the next thing. His version of playing was usually either based around chasing or organising. Normally, Dream would fling his toys around with his mouth and then chase after them, but occasionally he would fiddle with his toys instead. Usually he would lay them out in some kind of pattern, moving them around- or stacking them, in the case of the blocks- and then reorganise them over and over again. 

That seemed to be the case now, as Dream laid out the toys in a sort of line across the floor. He placed each individual puzzle piece next to each other, followed by each of the blocks, and then the plushie that George had brought with him. Once they were all laid out, Dream looked up at George somewhat expectantly. He realised belatedly that Dream was inviting him to play. 

Having just reached an exciting part in his book and still feeling a bit awkward, George simply smiled tightly. “No thanks, I’m good.” He said, shaking his head a little. 

To his surprise, Dream shook his head too- although much more violently than George had. “N’ ‘anks, ‘m g’oo.” He slurred back, beaming at George and waiting for some kind of response. 

“What?” George croaked, more shocked than anything else.

“Wha’?” Dream copied, tipping his head in a way that George saw dogs do when they were listening closely to a sound. George hesitantly put his book down, placing it on the floor next to him, and scooted a little closer to Dream. 

“You want me to play with you?” He asked after a beat of silence. Dream beamed, excitement lighting up in his eyes. 

“P’ay!” He shouted in agreement, slapping one of the blocks across the room. George winced when it hit the wall with a light thunk, and was a little shocked when Dream didn’t immediately run after it. Instead, the boy turned to George and stared at him expectantly, as if he wanted  _ George _ to chase after the block. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” George muttered. He scooted himself closer, gathering up the puzzle pieces and pointing at them. “Let’s try this one instead?” 

Dream pulled himself closer as well, leaning over the puzzle and carefully regarding the pieces. George pulled two of the pieces together as a small demonstration, and smiled a little when Dream’s eyes widened in fascination. He reached over, grabbing the first two puzzle pieces he could get his hands on and mashed them together, growling a little when they didn’t click as easily as George’s pieces had. George laughed, and leaned down to gently run his fingers across the ridges on the puzzle pieces. 

“You have to make them match up, like this, see?” He connected a piece to the two he had already put together, letting Dream look at it, before pulling it away agin. Dream whined, frustrated, but redid what George had just undone. He pulled a fourth piece towards the three connected and attached, then attached the fifth one easily. 

“You got it!” George said happily. “Good job.”

“G’oo ‘ob.” Dream agreed, clearly proud of himself that he had been able to understand it and solve the puzzle. He spun it around on the floor, looking at it from different angles. It was a simple puzzle, an underwater scene with a cartoony octopus and fish on it. Dream seemed to have fun spinning it around on the floor, pausing it now and then to look at the image from a new angle. 

George grabbed his book again, bringing it over to him and opening it up to read again. Dream was still spinning the puzzle, but looked up when George opened up his book. An exploratory hand reached out, running his crooked fingers across the cover as George tried to read. He put the book down a little, noticing Dream’s fascination in it. 

“This is a book,” he said, offering it over. Dream’s hands hovered around it, touching it here and there and experiencing the different textures that made up the cover and pages. He leaned over and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose a little at the musty smell. George giggled a little at his reaction. 

“Book,” he repeated, tapping the cover. 

“‘Ook.” Dream repeated, tapping the cover as well. 

“Book,” George tried again. “With a ‘B.’ Can you try to say ‘B?’” He enunciated the letter clearly, pointing to his lips as he did so. 

Dream looked a little frustrated, squinting at George, before popping his lips in a crude imitation. It sounded… a little bit like a ‘b’ but more like a pop than anything else. Despite himself, George found himself laughing at Dream’s efforts. The other boy looked a mix of confused and offended, which caused George to laugh even harder. 

He calmed down after a few minutes, wiping tears out of his eyes to look at Dream, who was still sitting patiently across from him. He was looking at George, a mix of excitement and concern in his eyes. George realised belatedly that Dream probably didn’t know what laugher was.

“I’m alright,” he reassured as he pushed himself back into a sitting position. “Laughing is good.” 

“G’oo.” Dream repeated, and Georg was pretty sure he just taught him a new word. He nodded in response, and idly reached out and started stacking up some of Dream’s blocks. The boy watched in interest as George made a small tower, before he reached over and tipped it over. Before George could protest, Dream quickly rebuilt the tower. 

After the blocks, Dream took apart and redid the puzzle a few times. It took him about five tries before he was able to complete the whole thing in under a minute. A good chunk of time was spent to spinning it around the floor again, and George picked up his book for that. The plushie was tossed around too, and George ended up taking it away after he noticed a new tear in it. He would have to ask Bad about fixing it when he got back. 

Time slipped by as Dream played with the toys, and eventually he laid down on the floor near George to nap. George had his book to keep him entertained, and didn’t notice how much time he had spent in the room with Dream until there was a light knock on the door and Bad stuck his head in.

“There you are! Sap and I just got back and-” Bad cut himself off when he saw Dream’s sleeping form. He smiled, looking proud of both of the boys in the room. George smiled back.

“I’ll stay in here until you bring him dinner,” he whispered. “I’m just gonna keep reading my book.”

Bad nodded and closed the door quietly. George went back to his book, the boy next to him was snoozing soundly, and he was glad that he had been able to stay in the room with Dream. They had gotten a bit closer that day, George thought, and he was excited to spend more time with the boy now that he knew what to expect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George and Dream bonding pog! 
> 
> Sorry if Dream's speech is a little weird, btw. I was making funny sounds all day trying to sound out the words and write them as I heard them. Wolves and dogs dont really use their lips/tongues when making noise, as most of their sounds come from the throat, so lip noises/letters are going to be harder for Dream, which is why I used things like "g'oo" in stead of "good" because 'g' and 'o' are a lot easier to say but 'd' needs you to touch your tongue to your teeth. 
> 
> Also I drew Dream from this fic, but I have no idea how to attach photos in authors notes?? If anyone knows pls tell me how ;-;
> 
> As per usual, if you liked this chapter or have any questions/theories, please leave me a comment! I've been trying my best to respond to all of them :D
> 
> See you guys next time!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, gamers
> 
> A bit of a shorter chapter! It's also a bit of filler, but it's very fluffy so I hope you guys like it!

It took Philza about five days to do a round trip to the city and back. When he returned, Tommy and Tubbo immediately flocked to the carriage to see what he had brought back. They were excited at the sight of all the child's toys and books, but were disappointed when they learned that they were meant for Dream. 

“You can still play with them,” Philza reassured. “I just wanted Dream to have some of his own things too, since he’s been using some of Tech and Wilbur’s old toys.”

“And my bee!” Tubbo shouted happily. Philza laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. 

“When can we meet him?” Tommy asked, still huffy that he wasn’t able to meet the newest member to their community. 

Bad paused from where he was unloading the carriage and gave the boys an apologetic look. “Soon, but we don’t want to scare him.” 

“Actually,” Philza raised his head, looking at Tommy and Tubbo with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I think it might be alright.”

“Really!?” Tommy and Tubbo shouted at the same time, instantly starting to cheer and celebrate. 

“Are you sure?” Bad asked, still a little bit uncertain. Phil waved a hand.

“You said George spent the whole day with Dream alone, right? I think he could handle Tommy and Tubbo for a few minutes at least. Besides, I’d go in with them to make sure nothing happens.” 

Bad pursed his lips, but nodded. “Alright, then. I trust your judgement. But first, let’s get these groceries inside!” 

\---

“Ok, remember what I said about your inside voices?” Philza asked. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement. They were standing outside the door to Dream’s room, it was still the same day that Philza had returned. It had been a few hours though, the boys were patient enough to let Philza rest and refresh after his long journey, but the promise of meeting a potential new friend was too tantalising to wait another day. 

It was a few hours to dinner, and Philza had agreed to let the boys in to meet Dream before he was fed. 

“Only for a few minutes, alright? We can try to help him learn your names, but if he starts to get overwhelmed we can leave.” 

Tubbo nodded seriously, clearly considering this whole ordeal very important. He had immediately started doing research on wolves after Techno told him about Dream’s supposed origins, and occasionally held conversations with Wilbur about developmental psychology. They weren’t incredibly deep conversations, mainly devolving into laughing about the strange fascination with poop jokes that children seemed to have or some other similarly silly topic. 

Tommy was much more intrigued in Dream than he showed, trying to bring a sort of cool-guy approach to the whole interaction. The boy had been begging to see Dream since the start, and would always curse up a storm whenever his requests were rejected. It was mostly for show though, and Tommy fully understood and respected the adults’ decisions. 

Philza stifled a little laugh at their reactions. He had assigned Tommy to hold the box of toys that he had gotten. He was using the old toys- some of Dream’s favourites- since he didn’t want to overwhelm the boy with a combination of new toys and new humans. 

He gave a quick knock on the door, stepping in and then ushering Tommy and Tubbo in behind him. 

“Hello, Dream! I’m back, and I brought some new friends.” Philza gave the customary greeting. He was hoping that one of these days, Dream would respond with ‘hello,’ but they hadn’t reached that point yet. Dream was sitting near the middle of the room- still within arms reach of his blanket bed- playing with some of the building blocks they had left him. 

He looked up curiously at Phil, his eyes scanning the doorway and landing on Tommy and Tubbo. He instantly toon on a wary air, but still remained somewhat relaxed.  _ Good _ , Philza thought. He wasn’t immediately on the defensive at new human contact. 

Phil gestured for Tommy and Tubbo to sit on the floor, and he took a seat beside them and held his hand out. “Dream, this is Tommy,” he pointed at Tommy, who gave a small wave. “And this is Tubbo,” he pointed at Tubbo who smiled shyly at Dream. Phil pointed at the boys again, repeating their names a few times. 

Dream shuffled forward, forgetting his blocks. He hovered nearby, twisting his head and shoulders to look at the boys from different angles. Phil realised a little belatedly that Dream was probably having a bit of trouble figuring out why Tommy and Tubbo looked so different from Phil, since the boy had never seen children before. Well, he’d seen Sapnap, who was the youngest teen of the bunch, but even he looked fairly mature. 

“‘Ommy,” Dream said, after a while. “‘Ubbo.” He puffed his chest a bit, a look of pride crossing his face. Philza grinned and clapped a little. 

“Great job, mate! You’re getting really good at names.” 

“He said my name!” Tubbo exclaimed happily. “Tubbo!!”

“‘Ubbo!” Dream echoed, clapping a little in an imitation of Phil.

“Holy fuck!” Tommy said, grinning. “I didn’t think he could talk!” Phil sighed a bit.

“Language, Tommy.” He chided.

“Ffff’ck,” Dream repeated, grinning deviously. Tommy and Tubbo howled with laughter and joy, clearly enjoying corrupting their impressionable friend’s vocabulary. 

Phil gave him a look of disbelief and pure exhaustion. “Please, Dream. Not you too… I already have to hear Tommy swearing up a storm.” 

Dream whined in response, turning his attention away from the people that he now deemed as safe and towards the box of toys that Tommy had beside him. 

The rest of the hour was much of the same. Occasionally Dream would repeat a word or say Tommy or Tubbo’s name while he was playing. The boys worked on a puzzle together, and stacked blocks. 

When the time came for them to leave they were quite upset, and even Dream seemed somewhat disappointed. Phil was glad that it went well, and promised the three of them that they would be able to visit and play together again soon. 

* * *

Hello! I drew Dream from this fic (post haircut) and I wanted to show you guys :) Hopefully this works out, and you're able to see it! I tried to make it so that it's easy to see for people on mobile 

Please don't trace/repost my art! I doubt it'll happen, but if you see this posted anywhere but on this fic, please let me know/report the person! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!
> 
> I'm trying my best with the image thing so I hope that works?? Also if you recognise me from anywhere based on my art style, no you don't.
> 
> As usual, if you have any questions/comments/theories or if you just liked the chapter please leave a comment! I try to reply to all of them :)
> 
> See you guys next time!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> Guys we're almost at 10k hits for this fic?? Huh??? That's insane!! I'm so happy people are liking this, and I hope you guys continue to support me with this fic : )
> 
> Enjoy the chapter! It's a little longer than usual (2k words)!

_ Trees flew by as the wolf raced through the forest, his paws pounding across the earth and kicking up dirt as he fled. Something was chasing him, he wasn’t sure what, but it was coming closer. He couldn’t turn his head, focusing only on dodging the trees and running. Despite his speed, the forest seemed never ending, and his twists and turns felt suspiciously repetitive.  _

_ Despite the fact that he was digging his paws into the soil below him, he couldn’t feel the dirt. The mud felt more like moss, and even then felt too loose. He briefly wondered if he was falling, or even flying, before his thoughts were disrupted by a thundering roar from behind him. The thing was catching up, and he could feel its heat on his legs.  _

_ His legs pumped faster, pulling his ears back as he propelled himself forward. Whatever was behind him was hot, and he could feel it burning away at the fur on his legs and tail. The light bounced across the trees, painting them in flickering oranges and yellows, and he realised belatedly that it was fire chasing him.  _

_ His speed seemed to stagnate and then slow, despite his best efforts to keep ahead of the flames. In fact, it felt as though he was running backwards into the fire. His running devolved into trashing as the fire licked at the edges of his vision. The heat was overcoming him, and it was starting to burn and singe his flesh. He let out a piercing wail as he felt his fur burn away and his skin bubble and-  _

The wolf’s eyes flew open and he shot himself up into a sitting position, his chest heaving at the intensity of the run he had just experienced. His eyes darted around him, taking stock of where he was and what was around him.

He was in the den, he hadn’t left at all, and he was laying near his bedding. It had been splayed out, as if he had dragged it around. His little pieces of wood that the two-leggeds gave him were still there, but they had been tossed away as well. The small sun was on, and the wolf noted that he wasn’t alone in the room. 

The Phil stood by the opening to the den, holding food in his paw. The wolf had to patch together his jumbled memories to recall that it was breakfast that he was holding.  _ Good _ , he thought idly. His stomach was growling a little, and the smell of whatever the Phil was holding made him even hungrier. 

There were other two-leggeds, though. A new one stood a little ways behind the Phil, hiding behind him outside the den. It’s head-pelt was brown, similar to the George, and it’s body-pelt was a bright yellow color that the wolf usually saw in flowers and in the sun. There was a third two-legged two, this one was inside the den, and the wolf recognised it. 

It was wearing different pelts, but the smell was the same. It was the two-legged that had grabbed the wolf- well, all the two-leggeds had grabbed him, but this was the one he had bitten. He could immediately recall its strange head-pelt color, which was a rare color the wolf only saw in flowers and in the occasional sunset. It was like a soft red, and the two-legged had it long. The wolf whined a little, recalling his own head-pelt. It was short now, as the two-leggeds had removed it somehow, and he missed it a little. The shorter fur was cooler and lighter, but it left his face and neck wide open for any creature to see it and aim for it in a fight. 

The soft-red, large two-legged was creeping closer as the wolf observed him. It was crooning the word that the two-leggeds liked to call him- Dreem, or something similar. He ignored it, still too unsure of the ways that the two-leggeds used their words to fully understand what it meant. 

The Phil was mewling something at the soft-red two-legged, and whatever he was saying was making it edge closer to the wolf. It was close, possibly getting nearer to the wolf to offer comfort. It did the opposite, though, and the agitation from his sleep-run reared its fearful head again. The two-legged reached a hand out, and- 

_ The white pelt was covering him, smothering him, crushing him. He couldn’t breath, and his struggling only tightened it around him. The unfamiliar scent of two-leggeds surrounded him and drenched the air, filling his nose and lungs. He couldn’t escape, no matter how hard he thrashed. There was a hand coming for his face, and his body moved before he could stop it- _

_ The hand of an undead thing reached out for him, it’s green flesh dripping from its bones. The blunt nails reach for the wolf’s face, scratching him and trying to pull him towards its horrible, gnashing teeth. It’s rotting breath huffs in his face and his breathing quickens, his struggles escalate into thrashing. He can’t move, he’s fallen and is stuck in the dark and the pack isn’t near enough and the horrible-undead thing is going to eat him like prey and-  _

_ The teeth of a warrior wolf in the pack lunge at him, snapping shut just in front of the tip of his nose. He’s different from the others. He has different ears and no tail, and although his mother doesn’t mind, some of the others in the pack do. He’s young, and they expect him to die off from sickness anyway. They simply want to speed up the process, so they took his ration of food when his mother wasn’t looking and shoved him into bushes when the pack was running through the forest. He cowered at the base of a tree, three of the older warrior wolves surrounding him. He had made a mistake, played too rough, and rolled right into their way, and now they were teaching him a lesson-  _

_ The heat licked behind him and the shadowy figure of something-  _ a two-legged- _ reached out to him. It croaked something, going limp in front of it. He whined something back, trying to touch it, but it was wet and sticky. He cried out, shuffling away into a bush. The sky was black, but flickering with orange. The smell of burnt flesh and smoke filled the air, thick enough to choke him. Something was coming for him, something was pushing the leaves aside and reaching into the bush to grab him-  _

The wolf came back to himself with a snap, the taste of blood filling his mouth. Instantly, his surroundings came back to him, and he found the two-legged’s hand in his mouth. He had bit it in panic,  _ again _ . He immediately let go, backing away with a whine and then dropping to the floor and rolling on his back in a show of submission. 

The two-legged didn’t seem to care, immediately backing up to where the Phil was. It was cradling it’s hand, and the Phil quickly put the wolf’s breakfast on the ground before ushering the two-legged out. The den-entry closed with a click, and the wolf heard the rapid retreat of their footsteps. 

He whined, his hunger gone, and curled up tight and defensive in his bedding again. 

  
  


\-----

“I thought you said he was tame,” Techno grumbled. Philza was wrapping his hand in gauze, and chuffed a little.    
  
“He is, I think you might have spooked him a bit. This one’s on me, Tech. I told you to try and comfort him instead of doing it myself, so sorry about this.” Phil put the finishing touches on the bandage that now wrapped around Techno’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Techno replied while flexing his hand. “I just hope I don’t get rabies this time either.”

“I brushed his teeth last time I gave him a bath, so you wont get an infection at least.” Philza busied himself with putting the medical supplied away. 

“I think it would be pretty funny if you got rabies, actually.” Wilbur piped up. He was standing at the door to the bathroom that Philza and Techno were sitting in.

“Well I think you’re a prick,” Techno shot back. He got up and dusted himself off. “And I especially think that’s very rich coming from you, who ran off the second Dream bit my hand.” 

“It’s called self preservation,” Wilbur sniffed. “Between the two of us, I’m the one who’s bite-free, so who’s the real loser?”

“You.” Techno said with a straight face.

“Boys,” Philza said, exasperated.

“Sorry,” Wilbur mumbled, only half meaning it. “Techno does have a point though, is there a reason why he just kinda went feral on Techno’s hand?”

“Maybe I’m just that delicious,” Techno said nonchalantly. 

Philza gave him a look. “I’m not sure, actually. I think he had a nightmare, and we caught him at a bad time. He was asleep when we came in, and he was crying out.” 

Wilbur nodded hesitantly. “Are we going to go back in?”

“You can count me out,” Techno said. “There are some things I wanted to add to the farm, and today’s perfect for it.” He started making a B-line for the door, but Philza grabbed his sleeve. 

“Not so fast. I said you were going to meet Dream today, and it’s going to happen.” 

“Are we sure that’s such a good idea? I’d rather not have a third bite mark.” Techno held up his hand as if it was damning evidence in some kind of murder case. 

Philza ran a hand down his face. “Please don’t be so dramatic. I’ll go in first later when we pick up his breakfast dish, and you can try to give him a new toy. Wilbur, you’re coming too.”   
  


Wilbur groaned, but didn’t protest, knowing it wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Fine, but can we have our own breakfast first?” 

\---

An hour after their own breakfast, Philza, Techno, and Wilbur made their way back upstairs to Dream’s room. Since the new addition to the small settlement, Philza had practically started living in Bad, George, and Sapnap’s house. He regularly slept on the couch, and had breakfast and dinner there almost daily. Tommy and Tubbo usually joined him, enjoying their ‘sleepovers,’ and Wilbur and Techno were usually there for meals. It was nice. Dream was bringing them all together, in a way. 

Philza went in first, pushing open the door and uttering a quiet greeting. Dream was awake this time, and he lifted his head and whined when Phil walked in. His food was untouched, and Phil knew that the boy probably felt guilty. He ushered Techno and Wilbur in, instructing them to take a seat beside him on the floor. 

“Dream,” he said, keeping his voice kind and quiet. “Do you want to eat? Food, Dream.” He pushed the bowl of scrambled eggs towards Dream, who got out of his blanket pile and hesitantly made his way over to them. He took an experimental bite, grabbing some egg between his fingers and bringing it up to his mouth. Phil nodded approvingly, and Dream continued eating the egg until there was nothing left. 

Dream licked his lips and his fingertips before turning his attention to the new humans in the room. He whined a little when he made eye contact with Techno, and Phil chuckled.

“I think he’s apologising, Tech.” He said, mouth twitching up into a smile. Techno hummed in acknowledgement, and hesitantly raised a hand. Dream watched him as Techno carefully reached out, holding his hand out in midair. 

To their surprise, Dream copied the motion, reaching out with his own hand to rest his boney hand in Techno’s. 

They sat for a few moments before Dream let out a hesitant smile, which Techno mirrored. 

“What a start to a beautiful friendship,” Wilbur muttered sarcastically, but there was a note of appreciation in his voice. Phil elbowed him lightly, but he couldn’t help but genuinely agree with the statement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe I hope you liked it!
> 
> I had a bit of a bad day so I added a dash of angst in there, as one does.   
> At long last... Technofriendship.  
> Also I'm really glad you guys liked the art in the last chapter! I'll try my best to include more illustrations in future chapters ;D if there are any characters/scenes from this fic you want me to draw please let me know! I do plan on drawing Dream when he had his long hair, so expect that sometime soon :3
> 
> Anyway, as per usual please leave a comment if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories! I'll see you guys next time!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> Sorry I wasn't able to post yesterday! I wasn't feeling super great ;-; I also went down the rabbithole of research for this fic, and honestly there's a lot I want to talk about? Im kinda writing down my findings as I go, but I'm probably going to be uploading my thoughts + research as a sort of epilogue chapter once the fic is done.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for 10k+ hits?? Next up on the milestone list is 1k kudos! :D

The days following Techno and Dream’s official meeting were fairly calm. Wilbur had made Dream’s acquaintance as well, with no biting involved, and the two boys started carving out more time out of their schedules to spend with Dream. 

Everyone had met Dream at this point, and they regularly saw him. Despite that, Bad and Phil barred them from all going in at the same time, as to not overwhelm Dream. They were all gathered in the living room of Bad’s house, sitting scattered across the various couches that littered the room. The air outside was cold enough for the wind to be biting, and everyone was huddled inside near the fireplace. 

“Not like I’d want to go in there with everyone,” Sapnap huffed. “It’s way too small. We wouldn’t fit!” 

Phil nodded. “Dream would probably be too uncomfortable.”

“Well, what if you brought him out here?” Will suggested, shrugging. It was meant to be a throwaway comment, more of a joke than anything, but Bad hummed in thought. 

“That… might work.” He said, rubbing his cheek. 

Phil turned to Bad, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure? He can’t walk yet, and he hasn’t gone anywhere but his room and the bathroom.” 

“I’m going to try and start helping him stand today,” Bad said. “Stairs will be hard, but worst case we could try to walk him around upstairs.” He frowned. “This is a tough situation.” Phil nodded understandingly. 

“It’s probably hard for him too, he’s most likely bored out of his mind. We’ve brought him all the new toys I got when I went to the city, and I probably won’t be able to make it there and back in time before the snow sets in.” 

The group went quiet, Bad and Phil thinking the hardest about what to do. 

“Teaching him how to stand is probably the best place to start,” Techno said, breaking the silence. George nodded in agreement. 

“Is he going to be able to though? Outside of balancing, I mean. Are his legs even… like… capable of it?”

“Well,” Phil scratched the back of his neck. He had the most medical knowledge out of the entire group, and probably knew what he was saying. Probably. “It’s hard to tell since I can’t get close enough to actually examine him, and since I don’t know the full extent of what he’s been through. I can only assume that some of the tendons and muscles in his feet and legs are underdeveloped, but some exercises and stretches will help with that. There may be some spinal issues, and there’s… nothing I can really do to solve that until he’s able to verbalise what he feels.” He sighed again, slightly dejected. “There’s no downside I can see in trying, though. He seems to be good at mimicking, so maybe if we do some simple stretches in front of him he’ll copy us?” 

Bad nodded enthusiastically. “I can do that when I go into his room for the afternoon!” They had recently started going in to keep Dream company in the afternoons, as well as during breakfast and dinner. It added a little more into their schedules, and helped Dream become more accustomed to humans. 

He hadn’t had much new progress outside of meeting Techno and Wilbur in the past few days, but he was slowly getting the hang of his toys. Allowing Tommy and Tubbo to play in the room with him had gotten him to learn how to properly use some of the toys that Phil had gotten him. He could do simple block puzzles, and properly identify some shapes. His vocabulary had grown a little too, most words being added by Tommy against Philza’s will. 

“Sounds like a plan, then.” Wilbur mumbled, plucking a few notes on his guitar. 

“I’m good on exercise for today,” George said. “I’ll stay down here.” 

“Ditto,” Sapnap said, raising his hand lazily. “Way too cold for exercise.” Techno raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t comment. 

“You guys can relax,” Bad assured. “How hard could it be to get Dream to copy a few stretches?” 

\---

It was, as it turns out, quite hard. Bad had been trying to show Dream how to flex his foot for about twenty minutes and all he had achieved was the boy sitting and staring at him. He had shown a little glimmer of understanding when he sat down beside Bad, but beyond that there hadn’t been any progress. 

Bad groaned, and ran a hand down his face. Dream let out a little whine and tips his head, clearly concerned at Bad’s noise. He was sensitive to the body language and noises that people made, and had picked up on human noises of dissatisfaction shockingly fast. Bad gave Dream a small smile.

“It’s no biggie, buddy. Just a little frustrated. You sure you can’t stretch your leg out?” Bad folded his leg up and then stretched it out again. Dream’s eyes flicked to follow the movement, but went right back to Bad’s face, showing no sign of moving his body at all. Bad sighed and pulled his legs up again, adjusting himself so that he was sitting more comfortably. 

After a few beats of silence, Bad sighed again and got up. “Let’s try something different, shall we?” He stood, brushing off his pants, and then bent over and held his hands out to Dream. The boy looked at him, curiosity lighting up his eyes, and he took Bad’s hands. It was a feat that, a month ago, would have been way beyond Dream. 

Bad smiled at Dream again as he held his hands, and slowly started straightening up. Eventually he was standing up straight, Dream still sitting on the floor with his hands still in Bad’s. He was looking up at Bad, head cocked in confusion as he tried to figure out what the man wanted. 

“C’mon Dream! You can stand up!” Bad pulled Dream’s arms a little, not enough to hurt the boy but enough to lift him off the floor a little. He whined, pulling away slightly. Bad let him pull his hands back, but Dream didn’t remove them from Bad’s hand completely, simply letting them hover a little. They stood and sat at a sort of stalemate for a bit before Dream carefully placed his hands back in Bad’s. 

Bad gave him a comforting smile, humming approvingly. Dream’s eyes lit up at the praise, and he shifted his seating position so that he was sitting on his haunches rather than his butt. 

“You got it,” Bad murmured encouragingly, smiling kindly. He gave Dream another small tug, and the rest of the boy followed his arms this time. 

It was less of Dream standing, honestly, and more of Bad holding him up. Dream put his full weight into Bad’s hands, leaning into the man’s arms and shoulders, one hand even reaching up reflexively and grabbing his bicep to ensure balance was kept. Bad grinned, beaming at Dream.

“You did it! Great job, Dream! Amazing!” The boy keened with excitement, clearly happy that he was getting approval from Bad as well as standing. Dream didn’t laugh or smile, most likely because he didn’t know how, but sometimes the corners of his mouth would twitch upwards, as if some long forgotten instinct was trying to make itself known. 

Dream’s posture was somewhat abysmal, his back still hunched even as he leaned on Bad for support, and his legs were somewhat bowed. Not as much as Bad would have thought, but he guessed that Dream would probably kick his legs out while running or fighting, so the muscles were likely developed enough for him to extend his legs comfortably. Even bent over, Bad could tell Dream was tall. It was hard to tell when he was on the ground or sitting, but standing up it was obvious that if he stood straight up he would likely be the same height- if not taller- than Bad. 

They stood for a while, maybe a minute, before Dream started shifting around and a look of discomfort crossed his face. Bad gently eased him back to the ground, and the boy plopped back onto his towel pile, panting slightly. He looked a little spooked, but mostly exhilarated. 

Bad stuck around in the room for a few minutes more, working through a few puzzles with Dream, before saying his goodbye for the day. He was sure Philza was going to be impressed with the progress they had made. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter!
> 
> I was going to do an illustration for this chapter, but its 1:20 am and I'm tired. I'll try to make one for the next chapter? We'll see!  
> My boy is standing.
> 
> Remember to comment if you liked the chapter, have any questions/theories, or have any characters/scenes from this fic you'd like to see me draw!
> 
> See you guys next time :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Sorry I took another day off! I'm still not feeling super great, plus the story is shifting a little more into plot mode so I want to make chapters a little longer (2-3k rather than 1k). 
> 
> Enjoy :)

After the initial hurdle of standing up, Dream seemed to somewhat get the concept. It was hard to monitor what he did in his room when the others weren’t there, but his progress was going well. Over the next few days, Bad had walked into the room to see Dream standing. Although, standing wasn’t exactly the correct word for it. He couldn’t stay on his feet for more than about a minute, and he had yet to take any steps.

When he stood he was hunched over, though Bad couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t realise he could or if it was because he physically couldn’t. His arms were usually bent, or at least never really rested at his sides. Whenever he lifted himself off the ground it looked more like, well, a dog standing up than an actual person. Still, it was progress, and he was slowly but surely getting better at acting human. 

“It’s a bit of a problem, though,” Phil mused. Bad had just gotten back from giving Dream his dinner and was telling the other that the boy had stood up when Bad brought him his meal. 

“He’s copying us, but I don’t think he understands fully why.” Phil took the dish Bad handed him, taking it to the sink to wash as he talked. 

Bad pursed his lips. “Probably, but I’m not sure what we could do to change that.” 

Phil was quiet for a bit, focusing on washing the dish, before turning to look at Bad with a thoughtful look on his face. “We could try to get him out of the room, and see if that helps him.” 

“Are you sure that would work? I’m still worried about the stairs.” 

“A change in scenery might be good. He’s really only been going between the bathroom and his room, and I think letting him in the hall at least might be good. For the stairs…” Phil hummed. “He trusts you, so if anything I think you would be able to carry him.”

“I doubt he would like that,” Bad laughed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to letting him walk around my room, though. It’s on the second floor, so the stair problem would be solved.” 

Phil laughed at the mental imagery of Bad carrying Dream. “It would be great. Are we going to try that tomorrow, you think?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Bad smiled. “I’ll clean up in the morning. I’m going to check up on Sapnap and George then head to bed myself. It’s been a long day.”

“I’ll be heading back over to my house. Hopefully they’ve gotten Tommy and Tubbo to bed, but…” He trailed off, thinking of the previous night when he had gotten home to Techno and Will furiously trying to catch Tommy and Tubbo, who had decided that bed was “for babies” and that they were “big, strong men who didn’t need to sleep.” 

Bad laughed. “Good luck with that, Phil. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Phil waved as Bad made his way out of the kitchen and towards Sapnap and George’s rooms. Phil drummed his fingers on the sink for a moment, taking a pause to think about the events of the past few weeks. He huffed, somewhat content with the results he had been seeing from Dream. 

“We’ve got a long way to go,” he mused out loud. “But we’re making good progress.” 

\---

Introducing Dream into a fresh, new setting had gone surprisingly smoothly at first. Bad and Phil had brought him down the hall from his own room, in the opposite direction of the bathroom. Dream had been confused at first, whining a bit, but was equal parts excited and apprehensive when he saw that they were going somewhere new. 

Bad’s room was filled with things that Dream’s room was not. There was a carpet, dressers, chair, and various other decorations that littered the room that were all new to Dream. He did his sort of crouching stand when he first entered the room, clearly seeing this new ability as a way to survey his surroundings better. 

Phil chuckled a bit at the sight of Dream’s standing, but was clearly a bit worried for the boy’s posture. Bad sat on his bed, grinning as he watched Dream explore every inch of the room. Only Phil and Bad had brought Dream to the new room, not wanting to stress the boy out or crowd him too much in a new space.

“I don’t think anything bad would happen,” Phil had said. “But just in case, it would be better if it was just us.” Bad agreed, and so Sapnap and George had been sent out to do their daily chores with Wilbur and Techno. 

Dream was darting around Bad’s room, fascinated with the carpet and the decorations that Bad had on his walls. He would sniff them, bringing his face to the objects and inhaling deeply, and bat at them with his hands. Bad thought that his actions fell right in between endearing and saddening, but was happy that Dream was finally getting a bit of stimulation after about a month of being in his room. 

Keeping Dream in the extra room for such a long time probably wasn’t the best thing for the boy’s recovery, but it was really the only option they had. It would have been impossible for Bad and Phil to baby-proof and escape-proof the entire house so that Dream wouldn’t hurt himself on anything or get back out. Having Sapnap and George roaming around the house at the same time as Dream would have only led to more conflict, and possibly even Dream attacking the other members of the household out of fear. 

Bad shook his head, clearing his thoughts. There wasn’t much he could do about the choices they had already made, and now the important thing to focus on was Dream exploring the new room. If this went well, it would open new doors for the boy and allow him to explore more of the house. 

Reaching over and patting the foot of his bed, Bad got Dream’s attention. “You wanna come up here, buddy? You don’t like the bed in your room, but mine is nice and soft.” He patted it again, gesturing for Dream to climb on. 

Dream stood up again from where he was in the room, leaning forward a bit and craning his neck to see what Bad was doing. For a brief moment, Bad wondered if Dream would ignore him and go back to exploring the room, but instead the boy seemed to be leaning forward even further. Confusion turned briefly to panic when he saw that Dream was leaning too far forward to get a better look at the bed, and he sat up to prepare himself for when the boy inevitably fell. 

But rather than fall, Dream stumbled forward and took a step. With his legs. Bad’s mouth flew open in shock, and he turned to Phil who looked equally shocked. Their eyes flickered between each other and Dream, who was swaying a little at the momentum of taking a step, before Bad’s face broke out in a grin. 

“Dream!! Good job! You took a step! That’s amazing, buddy!” Bad clapped a bit, and Philza smiled widely as well.

“Well done, mate!” He praised, and Dream looked to Philza and gave him one of the almost-smiles he made, keening a little with happiness. Clearly emboldened by their praise, Dream started leaning forward and took another shaky step. 

He truly looked like a newborn deer taking its first steps, his legs were shaking terribly even after two steps and his knees were slightly bowed. His feet didn’t seem to know where to face, and after the third step he decided that he had enough and dropped back down onto the floor. He walked on all fours as usual the rest of the way across the room towards Bad’s bed, but was clearly proud of himself as Phil and Bad continued to shower him in praise. 

Dream paused at the side of the bed, looking up questioningly at Bad, who muttered a few reassurances.

  
“Really, if you liked standing up you’ll love it up here.” Bad babbled. “It’s pretty high up, and it’s soft. Oh! And you get a nice view out of the window!” 

Bad’s room was set up so that the head of his bed was directly below the only window in the room. Bad had positioned it so that when the sun came in through the window in the morning, he would rise with it. A strange way to wake up, but not as bad as Sapnap’s strategy of not having an alarm at all. 

A few more pats on the bed was apparently enough convincing for Dream, who leapt up and scrambled his way onto the bed. He shifted a bit, clearly not used to the ground under him being soft and cushy, but didn’t seem too bothered. He shifted a few more times, before turning to Bad and sitting back his haunches. 

“Hey,” Bad said, smiling at Dream. Dream gave him an almost-smile back, before reaching a hand out to Bad. Bad took is easily, holding the boy’s bony hand in his own. Dream had been doing that a lot recently, reaching his hand out whenever he sat near someone. Bad was fairly sure the boy just liked the physical contact of holding hands. Phil had laughed when Dream reached a hand out to him and joked that one of the kids might have been teaching Dream how to ‘shake’ as he took his hand. 

“Haay,” Dream warbled back. His pronunciations were getting a bit better, but a lot of the things he said were still off or warped when he said them. 

From his new height, Dream turned and scanned the room again. He seemed content to sit and scan the things in the room, his hand still in Bad’s, as he huffed lightly even now and then. It was nice, Bad and Dream sitting on the bed and Phil standing protectively at the doorway. A sense of calm and content filled the room. 

And then Dream’s eyes landed on the window behind Bad, and the calm was shattered. Bad could feel the exact moment that the boy registered what the window was, and more importantly, what was behind it. Instantly the hand in his grip stiffened, and a low whine came from Dream’s throat. He ripped his hand away and lunged forward, past Bad and directly towards the window. 

“Dream, wait-!” Bad shifted out of the way in an attempt to grab the boy from the side, but Dream was already slamming into the glass. He had rushed at it head on, clearly not understanding the concept of glass, and now had a trail of blood trickling from his nose and low yelps of pain escaping his lips. 

Bad leaned forward, and Dream’s eyes snapped to his for a moment, causing him to freeze in place. Dream’s pupils were dilated, almost to the point where Bad couldn’t see any green in his eyes, and they were full of something so desperate and fearful that for a moment, Bad couldn’t even recognise the face of the boy he had spent the past month with. 

Dream lunged at the glass again, this time with his hands, snarling at it this time. His hands hit the glass, causing it to rattle loudly, before he pulled his hands back to hit it again and again. The boy’s movements were jerky and forceful, uncontrolled and desperate.  _ Animalistic _ was the only way that Bad would be able to describe it.

“Hey!!” Phil was beside the bed, suddenly, and had grabbed the end of the blanket from Bad’s bed. He was pulling it up, clearly in an attempt to wrap Dream in it to take him back to his room, but Dream was what he was doing and immediately turned his whole body to face Phil. His back arched and pressed against Bad’s headboard, his shoulders hunched and his face scrunched up in a snarl, Dream looked equal parts threatening and pathetic. 

“Dream, stay still,” Phil commanded quietly, edging closer with the blanket. Dream did not stay still, and leapt from the bed and darted to the door. Bad shouted in alarm, rushing after him and Phil dropped the blanket and followed suit as well. 

To their relief, they saw Dream’s legs disappear back into his room, which Phil had wisely decided to leave the door open to. Bad took a shake breath, making his way quickly over to the room and stepping inside before closing the door behind him. He turned, to check Dream.

He doubted any injuries had been sustained from Dream smacking the glass, other than the bloody nose. It hadn’t looked broken, but he wasn’t quite sure if the boy would be too keen on letting anyone near him.

Dream was curled up tight in his nest of blankets, fear clear on his face and in his posture. His teeth were bared at Bad, which wasn’t something he had done since the first time Bad had entered the room. 

“Buddy-” Bad started, stepping forward. Wrong move, apparently, as a low growl erupted in Dream’s throat and the boy somehow got even tenser than he had been before. Bad stood, at a sort of stalemate, before deciding that he needed to regroup with Phil before proceeding. “I’ll be back, ok?” He murmured, before slowly backing up and leaving the room. 

Phil was waiting in the hallway outside Bad’s room, concern on his face as he looked at Bad for an update. Bad let out a shaky breath, looking at the other adult.    
  
“I think we really muffined it up,” he said quietly. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you liked the chapter.
> 
> I was actually gonna end it with "we really fucked it up" but then I remembered Bad doesn't swear, so it's kind of a funny ending (makes me crack up when I read it lol)
> 
> I didn't edit this chapter and tbh Im not super fond of it, especially since its kind of important and I feel like I rushed it? I am kinda speeding this author note so I can go to bed lol
> 
> Anyway as per usual, leave a comment if you liked the chapter, have any questions or theories, or have any characters/scenes from this fic you'd like me to draw! 
> 
> See you guys next time <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone and sorry for the long wait!
> 
> For those of you who missed the announcement chapter, the tl;dr is that chapters may take longer to come out so I can focus on quality/chapter length.   
> This chapter specifically was a bit of a beast to write, so hopefully you like it! I'd also like to give a quick thank you to my wonderful beta readers: Sly, Remy, and Birdsong! I can now remove the beta tags :)

“So it was… a disaster.” Phil sighed and ran a hand down his face. George hummed in agreement, having been given a rundown of what had happened earlier in the day by Bad. Phil had just finished giving his own version of events, since Wilbur and Techno had been outside all day and had missed all the excitement. The humans were gathered around the table in Phil’s house, sitting together to brainstorm what to do with Dream while having dinner.

“Do you know what set him off?” Sapnap asked, idly twirling a fork in his hands as he waited for Bad to bring the food over from where he was cooking in the kitchen. Bad had offered to make the meal that night, as a token of gratitude to Phil and the others for all their help as well as to get his mind off of things. 

“I think it was just seeing outside,” Phil said. He had a thoughtful look on his face, his brow slightly furrowed. “It was a violent reaction, but it was more desperate than angry.” 

Bad came in at that moment, interrupting the conversation to dish out stew onto everyone’s dishes. Cries of happiness and gratitude rose up from around the table as Bad served out the delicious meal. The earlier topic of discussion took a back seat for a while as everyone had a few bites of their dinner. 

A few bites into his mean, Wilbur hummed thoughtfully and drummed his fingers on the table to draw attention to himself. “You mentioned Dream was desperate. I would be too, I think.” Phil turned to him with a raised eyebrow, lowering his fork. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Wilbur paused his tapping, letting his fingers rest quietly on the table. “From his perspective, we’ve essentially taken him away from his home and kept him in a room for a month without any view of the outside world.” 

Phil winced a bit at how harsh that sounded, and Wilbur chuckled a bit at his reaction. “Of course, you’ve also talked to him and gotten him to parrot back some words and phrases, and you’ve fed him and bathed him, but he probably still has almost no idea what’s going on.” 

“When you put it like that, I’d probably be throwing myself at a window too,” Sapnap said jokingly. George chuckled at his friend’s comment, but cut off when he saw Bad’s face. 

“Do you really think we’re doing the wrong thing?” Bad murmured, looking into his stew with a deeply furrowed brow. 

“I don’t know if there is a wrong or right thing to do here,” Techno said. Wilbur nodded in agreement. 

“You’re doing your best, and obviously you’re going to make some mistakes here and there with it. We don’t know quite how Dream thinks, or how he’s interpreting us, which makes him unpredictable. You didn’t know he would go ballistic at a window, and whether that’s because you did keep him locked up in the guest room for a month or not is a little bit beyond us now.” 

“Maybe you could let him out of the room more?” George asked, hesitantly. “I mean, if he got used to windows or if you introduced them to him he might be ok with them? Kinda like how he was with us.” 

Phil made a noise of acknowledgement. “We could. It would have to be a slow process, but we could try to take him out more. He did take a few steps in Bad’s room today, so hopefully he’ll be able to get down the stairs at some point and walk around the living room.” 

“Maybe at some point we could even uncover the window that’s in his room,” Bad said. “I’m sure he’d like his own window, once he knows what they are.” 

Phil opened his mouth to speak, possibly to bring up another idea for what they could do to help Dream, but was cut off with a groan from Sapnap. 

“As much as I’m glad our resident wolf-boy is figuring things out, can we please eat?” A few laughs rang out from around the table. 

“The stew should be cool enough now, so go ahead and dig in!” Bad said cheerfully. “We can keep talking once we’re done eating.” 

\-----

The two-leggeds were acting oddly again. Then again, it was likely that the wolf had scared them. He had been excited when they led him out of his den and into a different part of the bigger den, and exploring the new territory had been fun, at least at the beginning. 

_ It might have been the Bad’s den, since the entire room shared his scent. It was filled with new and interesting things. The ground was soft, which was a strange contradiction to his own den. It could have been bedding, except there was a taller soft thing that was also very similar to bedding. The wolf had a similar thing in his own den, he noted, and he had briefly wondered if it was meant to be sleeping or if the Bad was just sitting on it for height. _

_ Standing on his hind legs had been helpful for height, and it was a fun new trick the wolf enjoyed doing. Especially since doing so led to the Phil and the Bad making happy noises at him. While in the Bad’s den, he had leaned forward a bit too far and stumbled, catching himself with his hind legs. He was surprised at how quickly his legs had caught up with his body, and even after he got back onto his paws on the ground he couldn’t help but feel like something was nagging at the back of his mind.  _

_ Whatever it was, it was shoved back into whatever corner it was coming out of when he saw the opening in the den. It was much smaller than the other openings in the den, and it looked outside. He couldn’t smell anything, but he could see the sky and the sun and a few tree branches. Thoughts of his pack, the forest, and the world outside filled his head and panic rose in his chest. He lunged at the opening, fear clouding his mind as he scrabbled for the life he lived before the two-leggeds brought him into their den.  _

_ A wall stopped him. He thought it was ice at first, since it was clear and cold, but ice usually cracked when he hit it. Maybe it was, and he didn’t hit it hard enough, but the two-leggeds had come for him with the same white pelt they had wrapped him in when they first brought him to the den. The fear he felt from being wrapped up overwhelmed his desperate need to go outside, and before he even fully realised it the wolf’s body was running back to his own den, and huddling in his bedding.  _

The wolf shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He was still curled up in his bedding, waiting for the two-leggeds to return to bring him his dinner-food. They had come in after him earlier, but he had been so caught up in the moment that he had ended up snapping at them. He felt guilty for snapping at them, a little bit like when he accidentally hurt a fellow pup by playing too rough with, and hoped to apologise somehow. There was no way for him to hunt and bring prey to the two-leggeds, which is usually what he did to cheer up his mother or packmates, but he could do other things. The two-leggeds liked it when he stood up on his hind legs, and they liked it when he made the same noises as them. Maybe he could try that? 

He whined, burying his face deeper into his bedding. He was always a bit emotional, impulisve even, and it usually got him into situations similar to this one. He wasn’t even fully sure if the two-leggeds were upset at him, but he couldn’t see why they wouldn’t be. They were the ones in charge, and he had snapped at them. Even if his actions were out of fear and panic, they would likely have some sort of punishment. 

Thats how it worked in the pack. The leader wolf would usually give him- or the other pups- a quick nip if he went too far out of line, a reminder to stay loyal to the pack if they were roughhousing a bit too much. He could understand why the leader had gone so far when he had investigated the two-leggeds- he had directly gone against her wishes and broke her trust. 

A creak interuppted his thoughts as the den opening shifted to reveal the Bad standing there. The wolf perked up immediately, the smell of food wafting through the room. The two-leggeds had started giving him meat recently, or at least something that smelled like meat. It was usually warm, in a way different to how freshly killed prey was warm. It tasted meaty, but different from the prey he usually caught. He preferred fresh prey, but It was food, and he wasn’t too picky with what he ate.

The Bad took a few steps into the den, making his usual strange noises. The wolf was able to pick up “dinner” but not much else. He huffed, lifting himself out of the bedding and trotting halfway across the den towards the Bad. He hesitated for a brief moment, and then lifted himself onto his hind legs. 

He was much shakier, much more unstable standing up like this, but he could hear the Bad making praising noises already so he knew he was doing something right. He paused, licking his lips apprehensively, before leaning forward with his body like he had done earlier. His legs moved on their own to catch up with his weight, maintaining balance.

A few more shaky steps and be was in front of the Bad, standing hunched infront of the two-legged. He automatically reached out with his paw to grip the Bad’s own leg, feeling about ready to tumble to the ground at any moment. The Bad was cooing at him, making whining-like noises of happiness. The wolf warbled back, whining happily. He would have reached up and licked the Bad’s nose like he did with his pack, but the Bad didn’t really have a nose for him to lick, and hadn’t like it in the past when the wolf got too close to his face, so he refrained. 

They eased onto the floor, the wolf dropping down and the Bad sitting down slowly. They sat across from eachother, the Bad handing he dinner food over to the wolf, who quickly started picking it up with his paws and bringing it to his mouth to eat. He ate slowly, though, listening closely to the Bad’s whines and barks. He couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he appreciated his presence. Even after he finished, the two of them sat there, and at some point the Phil came in too and sat next to the Bad and joined in on the noises. 

After a while, the Bad and Phil left the den, chattering their goodbyes. The wolf felt satisfied, albeit a bit disappointed that they had to leave. They had their own dens to sleep in, though, and he made his way back to his own bedding. The two-leggeds had been nice, even apologetic to the wolf, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was glad that they weren’t mad, at least. 

* * *

We've got art this chapter! Here's the chapter specific art by yours truly

I also did some art of pre-haircut Dream!

And here's some art of him done by one of my betas Sly (@[cola_ramen](https://twitter.com/cola_ramen) on Twitter)!!

Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter and the art!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all your kind messages on the last chapter <3 Dont worry! I am taking care of myself haha!
> 
> As usual, leave a comment if you like the chapter, have any questions/theories, or have any character/scenes you want me to draw!
> 
> See you guys next time!!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh... hi
> 
> Im so sorry this chapter took so long!! A lot of stuff has been coming up for me and it took a lot of effort to write this chapter, but I powered through!!  
> This one is 2k words long, so hopefully that makes up for it :')  
> Thank you to my betas Remy, Sly, and BirdSong!  
> Also thank you guys for 1k kudos!!!! I'm still losing my mind over that!!!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter :D

Bad and Phil had sat down the following day to make a list of what they would have to do.

“Baby-proofing is a good start.” Phil hesitated. “Are we sure letting him roam freely around the house is a good idea? Rather than restrict him to a few rooms, I mean.”

Bad shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if he let him explore things. We can have a few off-limits areas, but I think just closing the door will be fine for those.”

Wilbur had decided to sit in on their conversation, mainly as an excuse to get out of chores but also to continue the conversation from the night before. “Will he even be able to get down the stairs?”

“He took a few steps when I went to give him his dinner last night.” Bad smiled fondly at the memory. “If anything he might need a bit of support, but if I can get him to lean on me the stairs shouldn’t be too big of an issue.” 

“We don't want him panicking over windows, so I think we’ll pull the blinds down on all but one of them. Getting him used to them one at a time is probably a good idea, and hopefully he’ll be able to have the window in his room uncovered.” Phil added. 

Bad nodded in agreement, and Wilbur lifted his hand in a lazy thumbs up. 

\---

They tried it for the first time after breakfast the next day. Bad had gathered up Dream’s bowl of porridge and smiled at the boy.

“C’mon, you’re coming to the kitchen with me today, alright?” Dream perked up. He may not know the exact words, but he seemed to understand the intent behind Bad’s tone and the motion towards the door he made with his head. 

Dream ambled forward, rising up into a stand next to Bad and in front of the door. He wanted to be tall, Bad assumed. It was possible he just enjoyed getting a look at things from higher up, and getting a closer look at peoples faces. Dream’s vision seemed to be fine, but looking up constantly probably wasn’t something he was used to doing. 

Bad smiled, reading out an arm to help stead Dream- and to make sure he didn’t bolt- and gently opened the door. Dream peeked his head out, taking in the hallway. It wasn’t a new sight to him, but it was the first time he had actually been taken out of the room for something other than a bath, not including the trip to Bad’s room. Bad couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt when he thought about it that way. Had he really been helping Dream, or was keeping him in the room making him worse?

Dream seemed to pick up on Bad’s thoughts, immediately noticing the way that the man’s brow furrowed slightly and lips curved into a small frown. He whined a little cocking his head as if to ask what the matter was. Bad turned to him and smiled brightly. 

“I’m fine, Dream. You don’t have to worry.” Dream copied Bad’s smile slightly, reacting to his change in expression. Bad giggled a bit at the shift in the boy’s demeanor. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Bad stepped out of the room, and Dream trailed slowly after him. He clung onto Bad’s arm and hand for dear life, shuffling slowly on his feet. His mouth twisted a little, clearly displeased to be walking on his feet instead of all fours, but he kept at it. 

He paused slightly at the door to the bathroom, looking at it and then at Bad, clearly confused as to why they were moving past it. Dream had- surprisingly- been very receptive to his baths. He disliked the soap, but he seemed to enjoy playing in the bath water or with the stream from the shower. Phil theorised that it was because Dream may have been used to water, maybe he would dunk in a river now and then- but was mostly glad that Dream was willing to come willingly to the bathroom. 

Since the first bath, the boy’s hair had started growing out a bit so Phil had given it a slight trim a few days before. It was still choppy, but it looked much better than when the boy had first come to them. Phil had clipped his nails too, which had been an ordeal. 

His shoulder was practically healed as well, scarring over and slowly turning into pale scar-tissue. As the dirt was slowly but surely washed off over time, various other cuts and scars became apparent. The most prominent were a few on his face and shoulders- what looked like slices or cuts from falls- and a nasty looking burn scar on the back of his neck. Bad had fussed over them, but Dream seemed unfazed and there wasn’t much they could do about an already scarred over wound, so they let it be. 

They changed his outfit regularly too, whenever he had a bath. He would be taken to the toilet at least three times per day, but baths were every three days. 

Bad gently tugged Dream down the hallway, away from the bathroom and towards the steps. The boy let out a small rumble-like noise, clearly uncertain about what was going on. 

\-----

The Bad was taking him somewhere strange again. At first he thought they were going to the bathroom, but they were passing it now and going in a direction that the wolf had never been. He wasn’t too keen to go anywhere new after what had happened before, but the Bad seemed sure of where they were going, so he followed obediently. 

They came to what seemed to be some kind of… small hill? The floor seemed to end and jut out at the same time, sloping downwards like a steep hill or cliff. The wolf whined, dropping from his hind legs into a crouch on his haunches so he could get a better look at the strange things. 

Immediately the Bad was cooing at him, pointing to the strange hill and making noises. The wolf twisted its lips slightly, trying to mimic the noise the Bad was making. 

“Stars,” he warbled back, and the Bad let out a few coos of approval and repeated the word. The wolf couldn’t quite get it, so he tried a few more times. “Stars. Staaers, stairs?” He perked up at the last attempt, which sounded shockingly close to what the Bad was saying.

“Stairs!” The Bad replied back happily, pressing its paws together in joy. It reached down then, gently grasping one of the wolf’s paws, and helped him back up onto his hind legs. He whined a bit when the Bad started going down the ‘stairs’ and pulled him gently by his arms.

It didn’t feel safe to go down the strange things, but he gently took one foot and lowered it slowly onto the first jutting out portion. The Bad whined approval, and the wolf brought his other foot down, and then started the process all over again.

After the first few steps, it was easy. He was a bit shaky, and sat down halfway through to rest, but he was able to get all the way to the bottom of the ‘stairs’ without much incident. The Bad cheered when they got to the bottom, pressing his paws together in what the wolf had learned was an action the two-legged called ‘clapping.’ The Bad seemed to do it a lot, usually in short bursts whenever he was praising the wolf, so he assumed it was a good thing. 

The wolf turned his attention away from the Bad and the ‘stairs,’ took in the new portion of the den they were standing in now. Honestly, how big was the den? It felt like it just kept going. The room they were in was bigger than his own, and the bathroom, and Bad’s. It was wide and open, and the wolf unconsciously took a few steps farther into the room to get a bigger look.

The ceiling arched high above him, the whole room was incredibly wide. There seemed to be soft pelts on the ground, similar to in the Bad’s den, and various objects were littered throughout the room. They looked like strange rocks, and across from the strange rocks were strangely shaped things that looked like wood. The wolf had never seen trees grow like that or rocks shaped like that, but nothing really made sense in the two-leggeds den. There seemed to be an opening to the den similar to his own den, but much larger. It was closed, and he noticed that there seemed to be pelts hanging across the walls. He whined curiously, he would need to investigate those. 

The walls of the den seemed to bend and jut out in odd places, somewhat similar to a cave, but the walls seemed to be made of wood. 

The Bad pulled his attention away from his scan of the den as he tugged on the wolf’s paw and led him to one of the strange rocks. It was soft, much to the wolf’s surprise, and he kneaded the plush material as the Bad eased him into sitting on it. It felt a bit like a sheep’s pelt, or maybe a cow’s? Before he could attempt to rip the pelt with his teeth to see if there was some kind of flesh or creature hiding inside it, the Bad snagged his attention with a few small taps on his shoulder. He was making noises again, and patting the soft-rock. 

“Crouch,” the wolf attempted to replicate, and the Bad made the noise a few more times to correct him. “C’ch, crouch, couch?” 

The Bad whined happily. “Good! Good job!” The wolf wiggled a little, overjoyed at the praise. He had learned ‘good’ and ‘good job’ fairly quickly, as both the Bad and the Phil repeated them whenever he did something right. He was picking up on their strange noises and language, and now he was able to use them back to try and communicate, albeit with some difficulty. He was getting better though, and already knew way more than when he had first come to stay with the two-leggeds.

Some of the words felt familiar, and sometimes he felt that if he tried hard enough he could say words that the two-leggeds hadn’t taught him. He ignored those thoughts and feelings though, refusing to acknowledge or consider the implications behind them.

A few more noises- ones that the wolf couldn’t understand- tumbled from the Bad’s mouth, and he lifted his paw to wave it at and around the den. He got up, walking a few steps away, and then paused and looked back at the wolf in a clear sign to get the other to follow. Sliding off the soft rock, the wolf trailed after the Bad to explore the rest of the den. 

The strange wood things were called ‘chairs,’ as it turned out, and the large flat wood thing that stood by it was a ‘table.’ They had four legs, which was confusing, and the wolf had barked at them at first to see if they would come to life. Apparently the ‘table’ and ‘chairs’ were in a section of the den called the ‘kitchen,’ which the Bad had referred to as the ‘food room,’ which told the wolf everything he needed to know. He wasn’t sure why the two-leggeds needed a separate room for their food, but he assumed it was similar to when the wolves would dig a pit to put their spare food when they caught too much. The rest of the den was called the ‘living room,’ which didn’t make much sense to the wolf but he tried to repeat the words anyway and committed them to memory. 

The wolf and the Bad spent much of the day roaming, exploring each corner of the room and sniffing the strange rocks and floor-pelts (‘carpets,’ as the Bad taught him), and sitting on the ‘chairs’ and ‘couch.’ He had tried to explore the strange pelts that covered the wall, but the Bad gently guided him away, which only caused his curiosity to grow. He didn’t want to upset or anger the Bad though, so he kept away. 

Eventually the Bad moved to the kitchen, leaving the wolf to wander around the den on his own. He gnawed on the ‘couch’ a bit, surprised when he found that the only thing inside of it was fluff and not flesh or blood. He spat out some of the fuzz, quickly leaving the new hole in the ‘couch’ to join Bad in the kitchen. The two-leggeds was preparing food, and the smell of it was starting to waft from the kitchen to the rest of the den. 

Before he could take a seat on the floor to watch, the Bad gently guided him to sit on one of the chairs. The way he sat was strange, his legs dangling off the edge of the chair and resting on the floor while his paws here left to rest on the table. He grumbled a bit, pulling his feet back up onto the chair so that he was sitting on it properly. It was a bit of a pain to keep himself compactly on the chair, but it was far more comfortable. 

The Bad hummed, not making any real meaningful noise, and walked around the kitchen taking small bits of food back and forth. He was clearly preparing something, but the wolf wasn’t quite sure what. The two-leggeds did something to their food, as it was always strangely warm and had way more flavours than regular meat should have. The wolf dug his claws into the chair a bit as he waited, noticing that this wood was a lot smoother than the regular bark off trees. A lot of the wooden things in the den lacked bark, it seemed, which was unfortunate since the wolf enjoyed its rough texture. A lot of the things from the forest were missing in this den, and most things from nature. It felt like the things in the den were warped versions of whatever had been found by the two-leggeds. His mind flickered back to the empty den that he had entered with the pack all those seasons ago, and he realised how empty and decrepit that den had been. There was nothing in it, not like there was in this den. This one was full of things- soft, confusing, and mesmerising- but that one had been full of stale air and dust. While that old den had been interesting to him, this one was oddly familiar. The warmth and feeling of life that seeped into the wood and echoed through the space reminded him of something, similar to the way the two-leggeds walked and spoke. 

His thoughts were interrupted when the Bad placed something in front of him, and he realised that he was being given food in a new location. He glanced curiously at the Bad, who smiled encouragingly as he sat down in a chair beside the one that the wolf was sitting on. 

Gently taking the warm meat in his paws, the wolf ate it in the way the Bad and the Phil had taught him- bringing food to his mouth with his hands rather than eating directly with his mouth. He still thought it was far less effective, but he did notice that he was able to savour his food a bit better this way. The Bad seemed to be eating a bit too, having made his own plate of food. He was eating with strange, shimmering sticks, which the wolf had seen him and the other two-leggeds use in the past when they ate in the den with the wolf. 

The two of them sat, eating quietly together, the peace only being interrupted now and then when the Bad chattered at the wolf to fill the silence. It was an enjoyable experience, and the wolf was almost sad when the Bad led him back up the stairs and into his den. 

* * *

Here's some art by yours truly 

And here's some art by [Quina](https://twitter.com/QuinaStar) on Twitter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter!
> 
> Im hoping the next chapter wont take as long to get out hehe
> 
> Honestly Ive been having a lot of trouble with writing this fic 'properly,' because I feel like no matter what I write its never completely right. I keep coming up with ideas for things that could have happened in earlier chapters, or different ways I could take the fic, so I end up getting really confused and twisted up in my thoughts. I also tend to research a lot about the topics of what I write fic about, and this is no exception, so I feel like I have some kind of obligation to be as accurate as I can with the characterisation and development of Dream as well as making the other characters act realistically. Almost feels like Im writing this for some kind of grade orz 
> 
> Anyway, be sure to leave a comment if you liked the chapter/art, have any questions or theories, or have any characters/scenes you'd like to see illustrated :D
> 
> (also pspsps if you draw fanart for this fic you can send me the link in the comments here I'll share any art I get in the next chapter)
> 
> See you guys next time <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!! Hello again guys, and so sorry for the long wait!
> 
> This chapter was rough to write and ended up being 3k words, so I hope you guys like it! Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long ;-;
> 
> Special thank you to my betas Sun and Remy! And special hello to those who have figured out my ~secret identity~ 
> 
> Enjoy <3

They started bringing Dream down to the living room every day after that, usually letting him stay and eat dinner in the kitchen before bringing him back to his room. Bad stuck with him the second day, and the third day Phil accompanied them.

On the third day, they also opened the first window shade. 

Bad and Phil were apprehensive, but they opened it before bringing Dream downstairs and letting him roam. They didn’t point it out or draw attention to it, hoping that the boy would accept it as another part of the room. 

He noticed it almost immediately, perking up to look at the new light source. He walked over slowly on all fours, and then lifted himself up into a stand to put his hands on the glass. He whined, watching the outside in fascination and looking with interest as his breath created fog on the glass. He pressed his hands harder into the clear surface, even pulling them back and smacking the glass again, and Bad walked over and gently pulled Dream’s hands away. Phil took a few steps closer as well, in case everything went bad.

Dream seemed to get the message though, and although he grumbled and whined a bit, he allowed his hands to be pulled away. He kept his eyes on the window, and after about five minutes he continued to walk around the room. 

He would go back to the window periodically to look outside. He didn’t touch the glass again, though. The fourth time he walked over to look out the window, Bad pointed at it and repeated the word ‘window’ a few times.

“Weendow,” Dream repeated to the best of his ability, “weendow, winbow?” 

“That was close!” Bad laughed. “Good job, Dream!” Dream’s face lit up when Bad smiled at him.

They opened the next window a few days after that, and Dream was almost as excited as he was with the first. He ran between the two, looking out at the world and whining to himself. There was snow blanketed across the ground, winter was already in full swing.

Phil had dressed Dream in a long sleeve shirt and longer pants after his last bath, but they ended up rolling the sleeves up since the boy kept chewing on them. The house was a little colder, too, and Bad was taking full advantage of the fireplace and heater. 

It seemed that the tension Dream felt when he saw the windows was eased into a kind of curious fascination, as the boy seemed to accept that he couldn’t break them. He seemed to realise that the outside world was beyond them, but maybe now that he could see the snow he didn’t feel as compelled to get out. 

  
  


\---

It was Sapnap and George’s turn to watch Dream. They had started taking turns shortly after the third window had been revealed. Phil and Bad needed breaks, and although they enjoyed spending time watching Dream they needed to work on things around the house and gather materials to keep any mobs away, as well as replace the torches around the house. 

The first winter in a new place was always the toughest, and everyone had been busy trying to keep things in order on top of taking care of Dream. 

Sapnap had gladly agreed to sit in the warm house and watch Dream instead of replacing torches in the snow. George had agreed to stay in as well, he hadn’t interacted with Dream in a while and had been wanting to catch up and see how he was doing.

Currently, Sapnap and George were splayed out on the couch as Dream sat on the carpet with some of his toys. He was fiddling with a puzzle, trying to fit the pieces together to create the picture of a horse. George and Sapnap had a few cards laid on the couch, playing a two person game of Go Fish. 

“This is kinda boring,” Sapnap said after a while, breaking the streak of concentration they had for the card game. George hummed in agreement. 

“Not much we can do about it though. We could play Slap Jack instead if you want?”   
  


“That’s boring too,” Sapnap whined, stretching his arms above his head and putting his cards on the coffee table next to the couch. “Dude, I didn’t want to place torches today, but babysitting duty is really boring.” 

George let out a huff of laughter. “You find everything boring. We could try to play a game with Dream if you want?” 

At the sound of his name, the boy lifted his head from his puzzle and glanced at them. He seemed to understand that they associated the word ‘Dream’ with him, but he didn’t repeat the word or seem to fully realise that it was his name. 

Sapnap wrinkled his nose. “No offence to our buddy over there, but I don’t think he knows any fun games.”

“Who said fetch isn’t fun,” George said playfully. Sapnap stuck his tongue out at him in response, giving his friend a friendly cuff on the head. George returned it with a light kick, and the two of them dissolved into chuckles. 

“It’s just kinda weird, don’t you think?” He said after the two stopped laughing. “Like, we just kinda found this kid and took him in. Took him away from his wolf family, or whatever.”

George pressed his lips into a thin line. “Do you not think we should have brought him here?” 

Sapnap shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know? I never really got a say in whether we should bring him here or not. And now we have all these chores and we have to help him out and be on standby all the time.” He grimaced and ran a hand anxiously through his hair. “I sound a little like an asshole saying that.” 

“I get what you’re trying to say,” George assured. “I don’t think leaving him out there was a good idea though. I mean, it’s winter now. If we left him out there he might have frozen to death or something.”

“I doubt this is his first winter, though!” Sapnap sat up. “Like, he looks like he’s been out there for years, so who knows how he’s been living or what he’s been doing. He can’t even really tell us.” 

“He’s getting a bit better with speaking,” George reminded. He turned to Dream again, calling out for him. “Dream, you there?” 

Dream lifted his head again, he had gone back to his puzzle. He had finished the horse puzzle and had pulled it apart to do it again, but paused to look at George and Sapnap. 

“What are you doing, Dream?” George asked, pointing at the puzzle. “What is that?” 

Dream took a few moments to understand, following George’s pointing finger with his eyes to figure out what he was gesturing to, but once he realised they were pointing at the puzzle his eyes lit up. 

“Puzz’le” he said happily. He was getting better with his words, but still had trouble making certain sounds which led to the words getting a bit slurred or butchered. 

Sapnap grunted. “He’s like… He’s kinda like a kid, in a way.” 

George looked away from Dream, turning back to his friend. “What do you mean?”   
  
“Like, he has to learn everything from scratch. And even then, he can’t get a lot of things right. It’s like everything is so new to him.” 

“It probably is. He’s probably never seen humans before, or if he has it's been a really long time.” 

Sapnap signed and slid down the couch into a strange half-laying down half-sit position. “That’s pretty depressing. He’s like… my age, almost? Right?”

Now that he had a more consistent diet, Dream was filling out more. His cheekbones, wrists, elbows, and knees were far less pronounced. He looked a lot healthier, and his hair and eyes even looked clearer now that he was being cared for. He was tall, but still on the smallish side with a slight figure and an ever present hunch in his stance. The way he stood was changing a bit over time, as he stood straighter now, but he still had trouble standing upright all the way. Phil theorised that he may have been about 16 or 17, somewhere between Sapnap and George’s ages. 

“About,” George guessed. He had been in the living room when Bad and Phil had a conversation about Dream’s supposed age. 

“That’s just… upsetting.” Sapnap ran a hand down his face. “He looks normal, almost, but if you look closer you can just kinda tell something is up. It’s…” He trailed off.

“Hey, don’t pity him.” George said, somewhat defensive. “He’s not weak, and he’s not a kid. He’s just… He’s just figuring things out a little later than the rest of us got to.” 

Sapnap raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You sound like Bad,” he said with a grin. 

George laughed, “whatever you say, Sappy Nappy.” 

The two lapsed into silence for a bit. George shuffling the cards and Sapnap gazing across the room to Dream, who had returned to his puzzle for the second time.

“Do you think he even knows?” Sapnap asked after a while. “That he’s human, I mean.”   
  
“Well, obviously.” George said. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“He didn’t really speak when we first found him, and he ran away from us a lot. If he was raised by wolves or whatever, how would he know he’s not one of them?” 

George opened his mouth to respond, but paused to really think about it. “I guess you’re right… Maybe he doesn’t know?” He sat up straighter, putting the cards on the table next to him. “Maybe that’s what we’ve been missing! He doesn’t realise he’s one of us, so if we tell him he might be able to learn things a bit faster!”

Sapnap nodded, excited. “We can give it a shot!” 

\---

The two-leggeds were calling at him again. They had a specific word for him, something similar to how the Bad was called ‘Bad’ or how the Phil was ‘Phil.’ Something like ‘Dream,’ but he didn’t really listen to it. They used it to alert him of when they arrived in his den or to get his attention, so he internalised it as a sort of call. The two-leggeds communicated far differently from the pack, and although the leader-wolf was able to direct her barks at specific members, the two-leggeds seemed unable to do that. Hence, the individual noise-words. 

“Dream,” the two-leggeds called again, and the wolf raised his attention up from the ‘puzzle’ toy he was working on. It was the Sapnap and the George. They were some of the younger members of the two-legged group, and the wolf could recognise the George as the one who had found him initially in the woods. His strange, large eyes were gone. The wolf still couldn’t figure out how those worked. 

He left his puzzle, slowly shuffling over to the two-leggeds. They were sitting on the ‘couch,’ which seemed to be a type of bedding for resting rather than sleeping. It was strange how the two-leggeds had different objects for resting. Chairs and couches were for resting, and ‘beds’ were for sleeping, but it seemed that sleeping on couches and chairs was allowed as well. These two-leggeds never failed to confuse the wolf.

Sitting in front of them, the two of them chattered excitedly, passing words back and forth faster than the wolf could catch. Their excitement was contagious, and when the Sapnap turned and pointed a paw in his face, the wolf playfully pulled his lips back and growled. 

The Sapnap pulled his paw away immediately, and the wolf realised that the lack of understanding went both ways. The Sapnap probably thought that he had just been growled at, or even threatened, and immediately the wolf felt guilty. He let out a little whine, placing his front paws on the couch and pressing down in an imitation of play and apology. 

For extra measure, he pulled his lips back in the same way that he saw some of the two-leggeds do when they were happy. From deep in his throat, he let out the strange stuttering noise he heard the Sapnap make earlier. A sort of ‘he-he-he’ noise that, to the wolf, sounded a little bit like he was regurgitating, but to the two-leggeds it seemed to be a sign of happiness and joy. 

The George and Sapnap look at him oddly, chattering a bit, before they also start making the noise. It sounds more natural from them and the wolf stops his attempts and whines happily, glad to have lightened the mood. 

He takes a moment to pull his attention away from- a feat that he wouldn’t have even dreamed of when he first came to live with the two-leggeds- to readjust the way he sat. When he brought his eyes back to them, he noted that they were holding a paw out. A single claw stuck out from the Sapnap’s paw, and he gestured at the wolf in a way to catch his attention. 

The Sapnap pulled his claw away from the wolf and pointed it at himself, repeating a word a few times. The wolf tipped his head in confusion. Did the Sapnap have two names?

“Sapnap,” he asked curiously. 

The Sapnap nodded, saying a few words in a string. The wolf could understand ‘Sapnap’ and recognised the new word that he had been saying, something like ‘human’ or ‘homan.’ The string of words was repeated a few more times, and then only the new one the Sapnap was trying to teach. 

Pointing to the George, the Sapnap said the word again, and then listed another string. The wolf perked up a bit, hearing ‘Phil’ and ‘Bad’ in the string. 

“Phil? Bad?” He warbled, his eyes darting around the den in search of them. The Sapnap shook his head, pointing angrily at himself and at the George. 

“Human,” he said again. “George, Bad, and Phil are all humans. I am human. Sapnap, human, do you understand?” The wolf could hear the anger and tension in the Sapnap’s voice, and felt apprehension rise up inside him. His muscles tensed involuntarily, ready to fight should the need arise. 

He was starting to get it. The new word- human- it was being used to describe all the two-leggeds the wolf had met. Perhaps it was their word for ‘two-legged?’ It was the only thing the wolf could think of that they all had in common. Experimentally, the wolf copied the strange way the Sapnap held his paw, pointing at Sapnap. 

“Human?” He asked, experimentally. The Sapnap nodded vigorously. 

“Yes! Sapnap human!”

The wolf huffed happily, glad to hear the anger gone from the Sapnap’s voice, before pointing at the George and repeating the word. George and Sapnap both nodded, praising him. 

“Bad… Phil… Human?” He asked after a few moments of thinking. More praise was thrown at him, clearly his words had been correct. 

‘Human’ was a new word, and one that clearly had a lot of meaning behind it. The two-leggeds had their own word, and it seemed each human had its own individual word. The wolf found it strange, but not incredibly so. In the pack, each wolf had a sort of label, such as the leader wolf or the warrior wolves. Individual words were unheard of, as communication was mainly situational. There was never truly a need for it, everything in the way the pack worked was too focused on survival for there to even be any time to follow up on those concepts. 

In the back of his mind, the wolf wondered how the pack was doing. Looking out the window, he could see the snow, and knew that it was the cold-white season. Prey would be scarce, and there was a chance some of the older wolves or pups would be lost to the harsh weather.

Before he could truly delve into that lane of thinking, the Sapnap drew his attention back to him with a pointing paw. 

“Human,” the Sapnap said, pointing to himself and George. 

The wolf nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. ‘Yes’ wasn’t a new word, but it was one he was still getting used to using. It was a bit hard to grasp the concept of, but it seemed to be mainly positive. It was used to give permission, or in agreement, or to show happiness. 

Then, the Sapnap turned his paw and pointing at the wolf. “Human,” he repeated. 

That… that wasn’t right. The wolf felt his lips tug down, an automatic sign of displeasure. He wasn’t human, he wasn’t a two-legged. The Sapnap was mistaken. Perhaps he was asking the wolf to repeat the word?

“Human,” the wolf repeated back, hesitantly lifting a paw and pointing at the Sapnap. 

Sapnap nodded in agreement, then pointed at the wolf again and repeated the word. “Human,” he said again. “Dream human.” 

‘Dream.’ That's what the two-leggeds, the humans, called him. Were they calling him human?

“No,” the wolf said, shaking his head. “No.” They were wrong.

George stuck his paw out then, leaving it open and resting in the air in a similar way to how Bad sometimes stuck his out. The wolf understood, and brought his own paw up to rest on the George’s. 

Gently, George moved their paws together so that the wolf’s was resting on top of George’s. George held them up, using his other paw to point. Words tumbled out of George’s mouth, words going too fast and too complicated for the wolf to understand. 

His eyes were trained on their paws, and how perfectly they matched up. 

The wolf’s were longer, a bit bigger, a little more crooked, but they were the same. The same shape, almost the same color, the same strange spidery shape and tiny nails at the end. The same lumps in the middle, and the same odd grooves in the flesh. Same in all the ways that the wolf’s paws were different from his packmates’. 

The humans were talking again, and the wolf caught the words ‘Dream’ and ‘Human’ again, but he wasn’t sure who had said them. Sounds seemed to be blending together, and he was distantly aware of his breathing speeding up into pants. 

He wasn’t human. He couldn’t be. 

But their paws-

He wasn’t. 

The way he understood them-

He wasn’t.

The way that they walked, the way he walked-

He wasn’t.

The way the den was so familiar, brought back sensations he didn’t remember the origins of, images he thought were fake, memories of-

He  _ wasn’t _ . 

The wolf ripped his paw away from the George’s before he could think, the panic was rising up high above him, overtaking him, and suddenly his teeth were sinking into soft flesh.

A howl of pain shot through the air, and the wolf immediately let go and backed up, his teeth bared and a growl deep in his throat. The George nursed a bleeding hand, and the wolf could feel some of the blood on his chin and teeth. The Sapnap called something, loud and brash, but the wolf couldn’t hear it. He refused to hear it. 

Eyes darting around the room, the wolf looked for an exit. The humans were  _ wrong _ . He was a wolf, he wouldn’t listen to them, he  _ wouldn’t _ . They were lying, they were wrong. He wasn’t a human, he  _ couldn’t _ be a human. 

Something pressed in the back of his head, against the backs of his eyeballs, and he could feel  _ something _ trying to break to the surface. The wolf shook his head, forcing it back down with low snarl. 

A cacophony of sounds was filling the den. The whining from George, the loud howling from Sapnap, the creaks that naturally emanate from the walls, and the sounds of footsteps beating outside were all too much, too loud for the wolf. His heart was speeding faster than a rabbit’s, and his breath came in quick short gasps. His vision felt small, focusing on little things, unable to pull himself back to the present moment and too wrapped up in fear and denial. 

An endless loop of  _ no no no, wrong wrong wrong  _ played in his mind, and the images of old wooden dens and flames licked at the back of his mind where he tried his best to shove them away. 

_ There’s a reason _ , something whispered traitorously in the back of his mind,  _ there’s a reason it's all so familiar.  _

“NO!” he wailed, his voice high and loud and full of panic. It wasn’t familiar. None of this was. It wasn’t. It  _ wasn’t _ .

A new sound joined the rest just then, and the wolf would have missed it had it not been so familiar. The call of another two-legged, another human, rang through the den. Its noise overtook the Sanaps angry shouts and the George’s painful yelps. What caught the wolf’s attention more, though, was the sound of the den opening creaking. 

A new light trickled in, shining in past whatever figure stood by it. A natural light, unlike the small suns he was used to, and a smell wafted in through the den. A cold, wet, leafy scent. 

The den was open. 

In a flash, the wolf scrambled across the floor. All of his legs pushed him forward, panic guided his motions, and fear filled his lungs as he lunged across the den in a flash towards the opening. Whoever stood in front of it- it might have been Bad or Phil, but the wolf was in too much of a haze to figure it out- tried to stop him, but quickly pulled back when the wolf’s teeth clicked where their paw had been. 

A moment of hesitation was all it took, and the wolf was shoving his way through past the human and through the opening. He was finally  _ out _ . 

Without a moment of hesitation, he took off. His paws thudding through the snow as he ran straight for the trees. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the sweet smell of repressed trauma and cliffhangers (sorry)
> 
> Hope you guys liked the chapter :) I have a pretty clear vision for what happens next so now its all down to my motivation.
> 
> As usual, if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories let me know in the comments! I try my best to reply to all of them :D
> 
> Also, how would you guys feel if I were to make a discord server?
> 
> See you guys next time!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys its been a while hasn't it?
> 
> It feels like its been a while... sorry about that. In my defence, the past week has been pretty wild on my end. I hope you all have been well and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)
> 
> Thanks to my beta SunFlarerito for reading over this chapter :D

The air was colder than it had been last time he was outside. The wolf wasn’t sure how long he had been in the den, but the windy-orange-leaf season had changed into the cold-white season, so it had to have been a while. Living inside the two-legged… human… den had changed him. 

He was used to the warm now, and the cold wind bit into his skin harshly. The humans had taken his pelts and replaced them with new ones, and although his current ones covered him well, they didn’t keep the wind from lashing his face or the wet snow from soaking into his flesh. 

The steady supply of food he had been getting was doing good for him, though, and he felt more energised and full than he had in years as he raced away from the den and towards the trees. His paws burned in the snow, the sudden shift in temperature causing him to stumble momentarily. 

Shouts and calls sounded from behind him, but he didn’t pause to glance back or listen as he hit the treeline and crashed through some bushes. A few stray branches scratched across his face and latched onto his pelts and hair as he shoved his way past the sharp plants, but he didn’t acknowledge them past the warm drips of blood that slipped down his face. 

His frantic running only began to slow when he realised how silent the forest was around him. He had almost forgotten this feeling, of how quiet and sleepy and dead everything was during the cold-season. He slowed to a stop, plopping down momentarily in a small clearing. His chest was heaving, not used to running after being stationary for so long. He lifted his head to the sky, looking at the canopy above him and the light trickling in through the leaves. 

It was midday, the wolf had eaten breakfast, and it was bright out despite the clouds covering the sky. A sort of tang was in the air, meaning it would likely snow later. The wolf huffed. His mind had been going quickly, his body struggling to catch up, but now that he was out of the human den, he felt clearer, calmer. Leaving had been an instinct, a moment of panic, but now that he was out he could return to his pack. 

Something in his chest stuttered at the thought of seeing his mother again, as well as the rest of the pack. He hoped they were faring well, that none had died to the cold season, that they were happy and well fed. 

He got up again, having rested long enough to catch his breath, and shook some of the snow off his paws. It was a long journey through the woods and across the fields to where the pack had been staying, and he would need to be running for most of it to keep warm. He slowly started making his way through the trees, more careful this time as to avoid any more wounds across his face. 

As he walked, a slow breeze filtered through the trees. He paused momentarily to smell it, easily falling back into his instincts. His posture changed though, tensing and straightening, when he smelled something familiar in the wind. It smelled life wolf, like a wolf he knew. Like his pack. He turned back, facing the human dens again, and taking another deep breath. Hesitantly, he followed the scent. It was a clear enough scent for him to know that it wasn’t fresh, but it could still mean something. Perhaps the pack had gone through here? Had they come to see him? Had they followed his own scent? 

The scent ended in a small clearing, at the base of a tree. There was nothing to note there, just a pile of snow that the wolf dug through. A few traces of bones and tufts of fur remained, and he leaned down to sniff them deepy. It was his pack for certain, he would recognise the familiar scent anywhere, but the question remained why they had been here. 

A sound filtered through the trees and the wolf lifted his head in fear, instinctively going into a defensive stance. It was one of the humans, he wouldn’t hear exactly which one, but they were calling. 

“Dream! Dream, are you out there? Dream!!” 

The wolf’s lip curled at the word. They were calling for him. A twist of emotion filled his chest as he glanced back down at the bones that lay beneath his paws and his mind raced. His pack had been here, possibly to find him, and may have seen the humans. There was no scuffing in the snow, and the scent was old, likely before the snow fell. The bones showed that the pack had stayed long enough for a small meal, but one rabbit carcass wasn’t enough for everyone so likely only a small party came. 

Perhaps a few wolves had come looking for him, had seen the humans, and had ran off? It was possible, but then that would mean that the wolves had returned to the temporary dens. He would have to make the journey there, then, and the wolf had already wasted enough time chasing the scent. The calls of the humans were getting closer anyway, and he turned to leave.

He paused for a moment before he bounded off through the bushes. A strange twisting tension filled his chest, and he couldn’t help but think of all the kind things the humans had done. They had fed him, and given him pelts, but they had taken him from the outside and kept from his pack. 

_ But they thought you were one of them.  _ Something hissed in the back of his mind.  _ You ARE one of them.  _

He let out a low snarl, shaking his head harshly and continuing his run through the woods. He was not human. He was not, and now that he knew what they were, he could return to the pack. 

The journey back was harder than it had been before, perhaps because the land was now covered in snow. He found himself getting turned around, but by the time he reached the edge of the woods he knew he would be able to find his way back easily. Crossing the river with ease, the wolf glanced around at the barren field. Whatever creatures had been there before were long gone, and the wolf couldn’t see any signs of life other than the few fish that darted by in the river’s current. 

Crossing the open fields wasn’t something the wolf was used to doing alone, especially not in the hard cold season. The biting wind was hitting him more now, and he was dearly missing his pelts. His face felt strange, his snout especially felt numb and tingly. He twitched his nose, hoping to get more feeling into it. It didn’t matter much, he thought to himself, he would be seeing the pack soon. The trees would protect him from the wind as well. 

The sun was starting to dip when he reached the forest, and with it went any warmth. Nights were always the harshest during the cold season, and usually the wolves would all pile together to conserve warmth.

He slipped quickly between the trees, rushing for the clearing where he knew his family was. He could almost smell them, his adrenaline and exhaustion high from running all day. The nighttime monsters would be coming out soon, and the wolf wasn’t even sure if he had the strength to fight any of them off.

_ Isn’t it odd how they only come after you, and none of the rest of the pack?  _

His thoughts were ignored as he dodged the trunks of the trees, quickly making his way through the woods. He could see bits of the clearing now, he could smell a difference in the cold air as more wind filtered through the trees. His cheeks and nose ached from the cold, but he didn’t mind it as he dashed through the last few bushes into the clearing.

Into the  _ empty _ clearing.

His heart stuttered to a stop as he stared at the open clearing in shock, not a wolf in sight. The snow glowed in the setting sun’s light, the untouched surface sparkling in the last rays of the day. Breath clouded around his numb face as he tried to put together what was happening.

There was no strong wolf scent but it was still present, almost as old as the scent he had found near the human den. The snow was untouched, but it had been coming from the sky a bit earlier so it was possible any tracks had been covered up. 

Shaking himself out of his stupor, the wolf hesitantly reached forward and pressed a paw into the clearing. His paw sank deep into the snow, and he whined lightly before stepping back out. There was no way the pack had been here recently. 

But where had they gone? Had they really left him? A horrible thought came to him. Perhaps they had followed his scent to the humans and thought he had joined them? Had they thought he would replace his pack?? A bubbling wail of pain erupted from his throat before he could stop it, raising into a howl of anguish that felt loud enough for the whole world to hear. 

His pack was gone. They had left him.

_ Because you’re human,  _ the traitorous voice in the back of his mind hissed at him.  _ Because you were never meant to join them in the first place.  _

Was that true? Was he really a human?   
  
_ Yes. _

He didn’t want to believe it. 

Hesitantly, he lifted his paw to his face, unclurling his claws and looking gently at it. It was blotchy, red and pale from the cold, and wet from the snow. Bits of dirt were stuck under the harder parts of his claws from where they had dug into the earth while running. 

It looked just like George’s, just like Philza’s, just like Bad’s and Sapnap’s and probably Techno’s and Wilbur’s. He placed his paw back in the snow, looking back up at the still-empty clearing in anguish. 

He got up slowly, shaking the snow out of his hair and made his way to the tree that he had laid under with his mother the night before he left. It felt like a lifetime ago. He had to carve his own path through the snow, shoving it aside with his numb paws. His pelts were soaked, they helped against the cold but they made his skin feel itchy and hot in a way that meant he was freezing. 

He curled up under the tree, the roots curling around him in a mockery of the way his pack once did. The snow piled up around him, glistening under the light of the rising moon, and Dream slowly drifted away into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Im working on the discord server! Hopefully it'll be done by the time I post the next chapter but we'll see!
> 
> As usual, if you liked the chapter or have any questions/theories be sure to leave a comment :D I try my best to reply to all of them!
> 
> See you guys next time~

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! Hope you like the fic so far : )
> 
> Im gonna be honest, this fic has no end that I've planned and only a few plot points I plan on writing. Who knows when my motivation will run out, but if you liked it please feel free to drop a comment! Seeing other people liking my work fills me with the good ol happy juice and makes me chug out more content. 
> 
> Also- I plan on updating the tags as I go (mostly because Im not 100% sure what to tag just yet!)
> 
> Hopefully I'll see you guys next time!


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